SUNLIT INTERROGATION

Chica

In an empty lot

with motors, tires,

a congregation of tired feet,

beside bougainvilla

and a once a week watered palm,

a lone chair waits.

Sink into white

plastic. Balance heels

on brazen cement.

Your shadow

will hint

of right or wrong.

Look closely.

Your sermon

is under foot.

~ Judith Pordon

SUNLIT INTERROGATION

Chica

In an empty lot

with motors, tires,

a congregation of tired feet,

beside bougainvilla

and a once a week watered palm,

a lone chair waits.

Sink into white

plastic. Balance heels

on brazen cement.

Your shadow

will hint

of right or wrong.

Look closely.

Your sermon

is under foot.

~ Judith Pordon

COMPOSER UNCOMPOSED

The only words that matter

are new.

They arrive in flares

on rushing breezes.

She snags them with a pen

at odd intervals in mid-stride.

Composed during conversations

she waits

with ink in her blood,

for moments alone,

to be bare

before blank pages.

- Judith Pordon
________________________________________________

 I started with all the handicaps, incapabilities and helplessness. I didn't talk when I was twenty. I taught myself by the act of writing. ~  Anais Nin

COMPOSER UNCOMPOSED

The only words that matter

are new.

They arrive in flares

on rushing breezes.

She snags them with a pen

at odd intervals in mid-stride.

Composed during conversations

she waits

with ink in her blood,

for moments alone,

to be bare

before blank pages.

- Judith Pordon
________________________________________________

 I started with all the handicaps, incapabilities and helplessness. I didn't talk when I was twenty. I taught myself by the act of writing. ~  Anais Nin

Twisted Rose

She was pursued by a throng of suitors,
as his one shy rose
wooed her

with idling patience
in tentative
low gear,

but when he accelerated,
boastful,
certainly sure,

he flew preoccupied
off an unseen curve
and never returned.

Now a sculpture
of twisted petals
dance in sardonic curves

around a shrunken heart
in a vase
without water.

- by Judith Pordon

Twisted Rose

She was pursued by a throng of suitors,
as his one shy rose
wooed her

with idling patience
in tentative
low gear,

but when he accelerated,
boastful,
certainly sure,

he flew preoccupied
off an unseen curve
and never returned.

Now a sculpture
of twisted petals
dance in sardonic curves

around a shrunken heart
in a vase
without water.

- by Judith Pordon