Sendings
By Shirley Segev
© Shirley Segev
Permission is given hereby to all who want to use these poems personally for their enjoyment and/or share them freely with others: verbally, in writing, online, or otherwise, by copying them without making any changes, and as long as they do not receive any payment in return.
Contact: shirley.segev@sympatico.ca
The broken Pieces
The broken pieces
from the falling apart
earthenware
left out all winter
in the garden,
dropped dead
with a clunk and
a sigh of relief,
grateful
for the chance
to be close
to mother earth,
where they came from,
before the hot molding
and the cold grief.
Whenever I count the Days
Whenever I count the days
I come up short
not sure at all of what —
broken promises, longings and
visions,
uneasy hesitations,
the lists, the hopes and
frustrations,
you look at me as if saying,
you know counting is not
your strongest suit,
and anyway,
life's like that.
Last month, in early march
Last month, in early
March,
these tender shoots in
frozen ground
said here, now here's a
miracle
for you,
and I, delirious and
drunk
with spring's first breaths,
blinded by barely
touching rays
of sun,
said yes to endless
happiness.
I rush by now without a
thought
of nature's virgin gift, still
here
to ponder and inhale,
a faded memory of joy
comes back
the feel of loss so pale,
already I forgot.
What if I got the queen's
jewels
next early March
I guess there's nothing to
regret,
I'd probably forget.