august has whispered
august has whispered
her soft summer sighs
into northern dreams
hinting at fading heat
as care-free love
burgeons to harvest
august has whispered
seductive budding blossoms
into southern meditations
faint echoes of green lust
that will move earth
pushing past all restraint
august has whispered
melancholic murmurs
of verses virtually infinite
rushes of last breath
reluctant to leave
this field of poetry
knowing she must give way
must always give way
to september
extinguished
for Firestone
Feinberg
every flame begins
with the smallest of sparks
some flicker and die
in seconds, while others
smoulder silently until
leaping, dancing, laughing
they erupt in fiery hues
but every flame feeds
on the same basic elements
oxygen, fuel, and heat
lose any of the three
and it is gone
poetry was his oxygen
kindness his fuel
community the heat
that warmed his heart
or was he all of these
to all of us
we watched
helpless to keep
his flame alive
marking how it
dwindled
flickered
faded
to a glowing ember
a spiral of smoke
of spirit ascending
lingering only briefly
to say goodbye
her father's shadow
i knew the story well enough
unwed mother stranded
in southern california
the daughter who grew up empty
hungry to know something
anything about the man
who left her behind
that girl became an in-law
when i found the right blonde
at the right time
and did the right thing
a lifetime later and father found
though too late to know him living
we had hoped the emptiness gone
so at one sunday visit,
with wife and her mother
looking through the past
preserved in black and white
i paid little attention to the
names and dates and places
of my mother-in-law's musings
until she held up a photo
read the scrawl on the back
and remarked
"that's my father's shadow"
sonnet of envy
i envy the sun that touches this tree
the rain that washes its leaves
the ground that surrounds the tangle of roots
the blossoms that beckon the bees
i envy the wind that whispers its love
the fog that conceals every bough
the birds that find refuge, safety, and peace
the moonlight, the fresh clinging snow
i envy the winter, the summer, the spring
but most of all autumn's caress
that kisses the canopy, urging the tree
to put on her bright golden dress
i envy all things that commune with this tree
i envy them all, as they envy me
relevance
born below the bottom rung
on the ladder to success
raised outside the walls
of affluence and ease
his daily acts of kindness
though unknown to the masses
give him a relevance that extends
past the end of his unpaved street
Jim Lewis (j.lewis) - is an internationally published poet,
musician, and nurse practitioner. His poetry and music reflect the complexity
of human interactions, drawing inspiration from his experience in healthcare.
When he is not otherwise occupied, he is often on a kayak, exploring and
photographing the waterways near his home in California.
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