NaPoWriMo #8

Pictured Poetry: “forward” by Tremaine L. Loadholt

NaPoWriMo #3

Winter’s Indecisiveness

Winter’s chill settles in
the clouds–hovers over my
city, unable to move forward.

I wake up to the cool air
trapped in my bedroom,
slide my body from the bed,
and close the windows.

42°, the Weather App reads.
I sigh and shuffle my
frozen, slippered-feet to the
kitchen for a cup of water.

The first few days of April
are always tricky here in
NC. We never know what
we’re going to get, and that
in itself, is a mystery to

If I had to Zodiac the weather,
I’d call it “Libra.”
Its intentions versus its
indecisiveness shines in
front of a shaky camera.

And we all benefit from it,
rather than shrivel up
within our skin like we
sometimes feel like

Winter, say “Hi” to spring
for me when you finally
set her free from the
hold you have on her.

weird weather days

the workday ends just
before the rain beats
down the window panes–
loud plops shake me from
a drowsy state.

trying to get through the
last hour of the day
before a power outage is
an act in dodging anxiety
when working from home.

the dog tilts her head and
lifts her ears at attention–a
thunderclap announces its
presence followed by
a lightning strike.

my fingers tap away at
the keyboard–thankful for
the cutoff time of the
day at just the right moment.
lights flicker but manage
to stay on.

these weird weather days
have me shaking my head,
but there has been no
levels of drought, and
I will be grateful for
whatever form of minor
weather inconvenience
comes our way.

it could be a lot worse.

Originally shared via LinkedIn after a long day’s work.

Winter’s Planning on Sticking Around

An Audio Rapid Rhyme

Photo by Kirsten Kimasch via ReShot
Winter’s Planning on Sticking Around

Winter whispers in my ear
cold & flu season is definitely here.
We have not been spared–no dismissals,
no chance at making ourselves useful.
Cuddled under covers with our loves,
fishing through movies in fingerless gloves.
No “White Christmas”, but payback has landed,
thankful to God I’m sheltered–not stranded.

I’m taking time to count my blessings,
praying intently, sharing my confessions.
The days ahead are getting longer,
my broken heart is beating stronger.
Old Man Winter isn’t asking for much,
one day soon, I’ll embrace the touch
of anyone in my circle or crew
I’m waiting for that day, it’s true.

Isolation keeps me weary,
my brown eyes are often teary.
I can’t change the season,
and there’s really no reason
for me to rush time.
Here and now is sublime.