Houses pile one on the other
a jumble of ordered confusion constructed
by hands that yearned for Heaven. Visions
where all ached upwards.
Villages sprouted on soft hills, red-tiled roofs
a glow of color against perfect skies.
Wine-hued shadows freshen a summer day
and hide, perhaps, a cloven hoof that dances yet
to a distant flute.
By Janet Butler
Janet Butler feels doubly blessed. She not only has a passion for putting brush to paper and watercoloring away, she also loves a blank work document teasing her. She knows, with the proper persistence, she will fill it with a hopefully fitting homage to the poetry muse. She began both passions in beautiful Italy, where she lived for more than twenty years. Her lovely Fulmi, a Spaniel/English Setter mix, was rescued there and brought back when she returned to the States in 2005.
Janet currently teaches ESL in San Francisco and enjoys the bus ride to work over the Bay Bridge. The view of the City by the Bay, reflected in the blue bay waters, is second to none. Her only complaint is that it’s always sunny. After all, being a native of Pennsylvania, she misses dark, gloomy, gusty autumns, snow-covered streets, winter potholes, and the palest bursting buds of spring.
RSS 2.0 Feed