Wind rivers, wild seeds

thistle seed parachutes setting out from flower
Plenitude of Seed Parachutes

 

rivers of fall winds…
sounds of animated leaves
rustling in the flow
thistles and milkweed flowers
set loose clouds of seeds to soar

Copyright © 2020-10-14, by Lizl Bennefeld.

Reaching for the Sky (a retrospective)

Outstretched Arms (© 2008-11-03)

“Reaching Together for the Sky”

I believe there comes a time—
wakening from doze or sleep—
when mind and body listen
to each other, and
between

one breath
and
the next

the mind hesitates,
then says, No more
and the body says,
No more…
and neither
takes that one last breath

“Reaching Together for the Sky”. Copyright © 2017-10-14, by Elizabeth W. (Lizl) Bennefeld.

Day 29: Whatever it takes | #NaPoWriMo

spring clouds behind barren tree branches

Brewer: “For today’s prompt, write a response poem. Respond to whatever helps you get your poem written…”

dry leaves dance above—
leaping higher than treetops
stripped by April winds

green shoots kissed by dirt and rain
pledge autumn one more harvest

Copyright © 2018-04-29, by Elizabeth Bennefeld.

This poem is in response to a poem not from this challenge, but one that I wrote for the 2008 SFPA poetry contest; the theme was “Energy”. The poem’s title is “Future Freedom”. It’s the second poem on this page of my QuiltedPoetry.net blog.

Evening Silence #poem

dead leaves by broken concrete of the backdoor stoop and withering chives
Transition of the Seasons

brown leaves rest
on remnants of common chives
too old to harvest

silent passing of the seasons
toward the end of all time

Copyright © 2017-12-16, by Lizl Bennefeld.

The treasure of silence in nature at the end of daytime. A pause in the day, recurring but each day, a surprise. A bird calls, inserting song into the vacuum of suspended time, and one discovers that there had been—for that still, brief moment—silence.

Daily Post Writing Prompt: Silent.

Cloudy Passage, A Prose Poem

“Cloudy Passage”

A “V” of 16 geese flew over me, calling out to one another, heading south. The sight and sounds leave me bereft and teary eyed. Saying good-bye to old friends—not knowing if they’ll make it back here in the spring. Not knowing if I’ll still be here to greet them.

“Cloudy Passage”. Copyright © 2016-11-25, by Lizl Bennefeld.

 

looking up to the top of a leafless cottonwood tree in winter
Looking Up

When they leave us, each autumn, I stop to listen to their call. If I can, I step outside to watch them approach, then fly past, calling as they fly. Today they flew above our back yard. It always hurts, their abandonment over winter. I thrill to see and hear the geese as they pass. And when they’ve gone, I almost always cry.