Winter Sunset

the sun hangs stranded

atop the horizon

time suspended

golden light

like a jazz coronet

singing out that one warm note

into eternity

Unseasonable Weather

mid-winter

and the trees wake up

branches tingling with tips of fire

reds and oranges

flames leaping from brown

sleeping trunks

wake

Pamela Olson

Here is the Wind

here is the wind

rising from nothing

no birthplace or home

a nomad

alas—I cry

as it gathers its breath

the world and I

wait

and it pushes down

from the mountain top

through canyons and valleys

sounding its warning

cry out—I say

tell me where you go

I see trees fall

and waters part

still it rushes on

scouring brick

and stone

with a secret

held within

until the wind and I

join and rising

going nowhere

going somewhere

finding nothing

finding everything

stripped down

laid open

raw—

elemental

Pamela Olson

Muse

emptied

the words have slipped out

the thoughts have scattered

all that remains

is breath and prayer

and memory

the deep spark

that has no name

disappeared

where have you gone I cry

but how can I recall

what is not

you are the space between the stars

the shadows gathered in the woods

when the moon reflects only on limbs

and trunks of sycamore and birch

you are the emptiness between the rib bones

bright white and striated

let me feel your breath

against my sullen cheek

fill my mouth

with your stony words

emptied and emptying

like the waves upon the shore

Pamela Olson

For One Single Impression's prompt
"rekindle"

Transition

you stand

in the dusky boundary

half man

half spirit

half sun

half shade

not of the forest

not of the meadow

half rain

half drought

dew drops hang

along your fingertips

change slices

midline and midplace

will you stay

or will you go

Pam Olson