Copyright © 2019-07-14, by Lizl Bennefeld.
I found myself
wondering why my parents
haven’t phoned, today
I’m caught up short, remembering
they’re on Heaven’s direct line
Copyright © 2019-05-27, Memorial Day, by Lizl Bennefeld.
Memorial Day was “our” family holiday. It’s now my remembering. After my parents were discharged, they returned to Father’s home town to realize their life’s long-held dream of raising lots of children, together. (Eventually, there were nine of us, seven living into adulthood.) My father was groundskeeper (one of many jobs) and then the sexton, of the village cemetery, and we children, while growing up, worked with him to get the grounds ready for the Memorial Day observances. Mother was in the Navy, and Father was in the Army, separated overseas, but both serving in the Pacific Theater. (In uniform).
March comes in as a lion and … April buries the road by which it leaves
is sharp but somehow peaceful
unlike April’s storms
like cyclones over water
Spring adds fury to its snow
Copyright © 2019-04-10, by Lizl Bennefeld.
Please also visit my Quilted Poetry blog on WordPress.
Write a kimo, an Israeli form that tends to capture a moment (like a photograph in words), using three unrhymed lines with syllable count 10, 7, 6. (Cuyahoga County Public Library)
ice crystals scattered in a shrinking patch
glistening in the sunlight…
exhaling their last breaths
Copyright © 2019-04-08, by Lizl Bennefeld.
My first poem for this Monday was written for the Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Prompt Challenge, and can be found on my Quilted Poetry blog: River’s Crest.
fresh breath of cold
sunlight on frosted branches
Copyright © 2019-01-19, by Liz Bennefeld.
Frosty Branches [photo]. Copyright © 2010-01-19, Liz Bennefeld, photographer.