leaves in wind, image by Alicja, on Pixabay
An Hour Ago
An hour ago I’d dozed upon
the thought I could leave all
those unwanted memories
behind as if they were stuffed
away in the toe room of a worn
shoe so they could no longer
ever touch me and I could
breathe in the scent of a dahlia
that, when once a bud, sighed
itself open into a flower. Only
heartfelt prayers sent to heaven,
and leaves flying rapturously
in the wind when autumn
begins closing in.
___________________
A Snowy Dawn
In the midst of a snowy dawn
and its budding light, the spicy
scent of cold and ice, I listened
to the morning’s silence when
there was little more than a whisper
on the wind, time stretching out
like a map before me, God’s white-
gloved hands above, before life
rises with a murmur. This gave me
my most quiet hours, the morning
still so cushioned by sleep.
____________________
Bobbi Sinha-Morey's poetry has appeared in a wide variety of places such as Plainsongs, Pirene’s Fountain, The Wayfarer, Helix Magazine, Miller’s Pond, The Tau, Vita Brevis, Cascadia Rising Review, Old Red Kimono, and Woods Reader. Her books of poetry are available at www.Amazon.com and her work has been nominated for The Best of the Net Anthology in 2015, 2018, and 2020, as well as having been nominated for The Pushcart Prize in 2020. Her website is located at: http://bobbisinhamorey.wordpress.com.
August 2021 issue
These are lovely.
"scent of a dahlia
that, when once a bud, sighed
itself open into a flower."