Chance: Six From a Tarot

This entry is part 1 of 13 in the series Chance: A Poetic Tarot



The yeast did not bloom
and the dough did not rise,
or the fire did not fix
the current in the air—


The hills were blue
and then they were fire
for when we lay upon them
their ice caps melted—


The hummingbirds must live
on the nectar of stones—
Have you seen ruby or green
tendrils marking their throats?


And the child stirred coals
to life in the grate,
then left food in the bowl
which the cat then ate—


Years later, the letter
arrived at the wrong address,
so the woman in the window waited
till she could sigh no more—


A man emerged from exile
of many years to marvel at the stars:
for each one hung above, he tucked
its twin into a sleeve of water—


In response to Via Negativa: Gambler.

Series NavigationChance: Six More From a Tarot →

3 Replies to “Chance: Six From a Tarot”

  1. I like this so much, I’ll have to précis my feeling about it in a haiku:

    Whenever I feel
    Like inaudible autumn
    Your poems slow down.

    You should not listen.
    I am a just a brain of keys:
    Usual like sun’s pull.

    I swallow the sea,
    Of which I am not a part
    Craving like spring’s tease.

    It seems that my fears
    Have sunk like old abbey glass
    Vulnerably close.

    It ended up as four!! :)

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