In the barrenness and cold of winter, I traveled for the first time to Russia. I wrote this poem on a Soviet train as we wound through the Russian woods and farmland from St. Petersburg to Moscow. My first train ride through the former Soviet Union overflowed with the romance of high adventure, set against the winterscape of the…
Tag: Poetry
Old Woolen Red Coverlet
I wrote this poem in St. Petersburg, Russia, after hearing an old Russian soldier play marches on his accordion in the square. On his wool coat, he had pinned dozens of military medals he had won fighting for the ideals of Mother Russia.
haiku: unexpected
Aurora Borealis ******************** Out of the blue, a torrential wave overwhelmed unexpectedly. ********************* So passionate and deep and sweet the love that I flung open my heart. *********************
haiku: i miss you already
*************** It wasn’t enough– a fleeting spark–a second to say “I love you.” ****************** It wasn’t enough– just a glance to notice the unnoticeable.
haiku: the moon tonight
****************** It’s still magic, that silver moon hanging in the dark with contancy. ******************** I feel the ages in your soft light, those who looked with wonder too. **********************
haiku: barren branches
******************* Lacy and austere at once–beautiful barren trees–winter’s mystique. ********************* Frost-covered branches, in winter-land magic, play music when jiggled. **********************
haiku: no sting in death
I have been awake since 3 AM–way too early to arise. But arise I did, reluctantly. I need more sleep for the very long day we will have today. There will be physical and emotional strain in saying good-bye, in seeing many people, in the journey to Bartlett and back. I need more sleep……
Tapping Bird
For two days, a little, lost cardinal has been tapping on our front door, trying to get in. He certainly has been insistent. Tap, tap, rapping at our door. I quickly snapped this picture of the little lost creature. He flew away as soon as he saw someone inside, but he came right back….
Maine’s Coast
I wrote this poem on the craggy coast of Maine with the churning waves hammering against the ancient rocks.
haiku: scarlet leaf
A scarlet leaf stains my parched lips and quenches what is thirsty in me.
Bonnie Saul Wilks 