This week’s Little Vines. You may notice that I have reached #5000. That means it’s time for another print book. I’ll be working on putting it together over the next few weeks. Meanwhile, I head off into the distance looking for #6000…
4983.
about the gardeners
about the flowers confined in pots
about how the flowers really feel about the gardeners
4984.
Fear and loathing. Your hair stands on end.
This is it.
The bureaucrat beckons to you –
A gesture with a certain negligent flair.
4985.
the juicy red cherries
a handful cease to exist
every time you reach into the bowl
4986.
we’ve waited long enough.
keep what you’ve got – we’ll call it even.
it looks like perfection isn’t coming in today.
4987.
everyone knows
nobody’s talking
Good system. I like it.
4988.
I built a snowman on your grave
I hoped it might cool things down just a little
where you are.
4989.
one broken-hearted potato
or a bowl of overwrought spaghetti?
What may I offer you for dinner tonight?
4990.
the sewing machine lubed up and raring to go
eyes the yardage calculates a speed at which
Sure, I can run up that little cotton dress by dinner
4991.
the ground-breaking atomic experiments created
scrumptious desserts
for fractions of a second
4992.
the several lovelorn of us trapped in orbit around
Planet Attractive to Many – we’d like to free ourselves
but the magnetic field is way too strong
4993.
in their bones they knew
the hive group had forgotten their existence
yet they hoped and still sent in their dues each week
4994.
Going to be a hot day
greased up ready for sunburn
Lie on a red and white striped towel
with a big green ocean out there. Perfection.
4995.
the hawk in flight
the snake
who dangles from his beak
4996.
Last night I dreamed of
light snow and green apples
Today I ate apple pie a la mode vanilla for lunch.
4997.
a minute here a minute there
the cake rising in the oven
appreciates them all as it heads for perfection
4998.
a drop of blood myth
a taste of heroic balladry
I listen to your account of last night’s softball game
4999.
twinkly piano music
a creaking door at the back of the auditorium
my dad made it to my music recital
5000.
Finally I am able to look back.
With gratitude.
Am I the last person to know?
I blink at my reflection in the mirror.
5001.
an iridescent audience
in the aquarium: blank expressionless eyes
the fish gazing at me from the aquarium
5002.
a spoon lost at the back of the drawer
hermits disappear
and that is how they like it
Claudia McGill Writes Poetry, Did You Know That? 
That’s me and cherries for sure. I’m still laughing about 4987. And congratulations on another milestone!(K)
Thank you for everything. I really enjoy the LV world and as time goes on I’d rather do them and other short poems than anything else. A little bit to say and I am done. That is a good way to be for me, I think.
Love these! Little nuggets of observations, spare and succinct 🙂
Thank you. I have been doing these for some time, this form of writing, I mean, and I really enjoy it.
>988.
>I built a snowman on your grave
>I hoped it might cool things down just a little
>where you are.
This is pure perfection. 😀
Thank you. I live near a couple of cemeteries and I often see funerals in progress (in which I wonder what everyone is thinking) and other times I am alone with the formerly living, except for the actual living who might be dropping by to visit here and there, and then again I wonder what the conversations are like or what the visitors are thinking…this is where this one came from, all this observation of relationships still in progress…
Your little vines are always brilliant, that is cool you are putting out another print book 🙂
Thank you! I love doing them and you know how much I love seeing my words in actual print on paper.