The Bookseller

source

Look at her selling books at flea markets,

the weediest person I ever saw—

despite multiple attempts  to cultivate her,

she remains herself.  No apologies.  No regrets. 

She’s read each book twice: sci-fi and murder

mysteries,  finding God and edible

flowers, busking and classical drama,

Simone, Maya, e.e., A.A. and me.

In flowered shirt and toe-cut tennis shoes,

she hums blues in parking lots of vendors

as if normalcy existed as foil

to exceptional, as if God’s treasure.

And she is like a dandelion tree in

in a plastic sea, parachuting seeds

that will grow minds and imagination

in any ground, government and season.

For my prompt 

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Weeds/Weediness

Copyright © 2015  S.L.Chast 

Simply Happy

The Time of the Lilacs by Sophie Gengembre Anderson (1823-1903)

The lilacs woke me this musty morning:

Broke through my fog with white and purple scents

louder than an alarm clock, more eager

than a mother on my first day of school.

Every lilac memory burst on me

until I laughed aloud and romped with them

as if they were collie puppies and I

needed neither caution nor vigilance.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you

for opening the window and letting

spring wind enter with its ever magic

surprise and this gift of lilac delight.

I forgot that when I couldn't move at all

life’s essence could come to me still and enthrall.   

       For my prompt Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Happiness

Copyright © 2015  S.L.Chast