I have yet to attend a funeral where it didn’t rain – John Grey

 

You were buried near twilight

and as the moon went missing

behind a combination of clouds,

and oncoming night methodically

devoured the shine, it was up to

your tombstone to illuminate

its surrounds, sprout grass and

wildflowers, as sky splashed,

on your new forecourt, star-sized tears

in the shape of rain, each one plopping

into the last, and your shadow,

having rid itself of you, found, beyond

death, new life as a black umbrella.

 

 

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Nebo, Euphony and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Leading Edge, Poetry East and Midwest Quarterly.

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June 7, 2018June 7, 2018 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: Australia, burial, clouds, creative, creativity, death, John Grey, life, moon, nature, night, poem, Poetry, rain, shadow, sky, tears, twilight, umbrella, US, weather, wildflowers, writing 1 Comment

Sunset Paths – Robert Pelgrift

 

To paint a sunset sky above a bay,

one lightly brushes a blue field on white,

then brushes pink trails from an overlay

of plaited rose clouds on blue twilight.

One paints a thin blue strand across the bay

where watery shapes of yellow and pink rose

mirror the rainbow curtain whose array

ascends behind, in colors that transpose

the waters’ hues; its pink rose valance shades

the sunset clouds above a yellow haze

that thins to bright white sun upon the strand.

On the near shore, one paints blue shrubs and blades

of blue beach grass to mark a twilit maze

of winding darkening paths of blue sand.

 

 

Robert Pelgrift practiced law in New York City for many years and is now an editor for a legal publisher, working in New York City.  His poems have been published in various anthologies and in The Lyric, The Rotary Dial, The Galway Review, The Foxglove Journal and The Waggle.

November 10, 2017November 10, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: art, bay, clouds, colours, creative, creativity, elements, mirror, nature, NY, painting, poem, Poetry, rainbow, Robert Pelgrift, sand, shapes, sky, sun, sunset, twilight, US, writing Leave a comment

Cityscape – Ali Jones

 

In concrete jungles, he dreams concrete trees,

to knock at his window in perfect cadences,

 

as night lowers the sky and curtains run their tracks.

He sees seeds lifted in the air, blown high

 

to ride with clouds, on moth wings and

twilight whispers. The trees have seen him,

 

they know where he sleeps, watch them lean in

and put their heads together, to show him

 

imagination and free thinking, without and within,

in grey skies, under a metal moon, a triumph of green.

 

Ali Jones is a teacher and mother of three. Her work has appeared in Fire, Poetry Rivals, Strange Poetry, Ink Sweat and Tears, Snakeskin Poetry, Atrium, Mother’s Milk Books, Breastfeeding Matters, Breastfeeding Today and Green Parent magazine. She has also written for The Guardian.

August 10, 2017August 10, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: Ali Jones, city, clouds, colours, concrete, creativity, dreams, imagination, jungles, metal, moon, nature, night, poem, Poetry, sky, sleep, trees, twilight, urban, whispers, wings, writing Leave a comment