Kindred Spirits, Painted by Karl S.

The cactus and his man
lean in green
toward each other in a cluttered room of books,
a lifetime spent in busy dust
caressed by sunlight illuminating
a window whose ample sill embraces
pots of prickly green balls.

Cacti are as slow as scholars
and as hairless, convoluted, firm.
Once a decade there is a bloom
a boutonniere for the awards ceremony, perhaps.
Meanwhile the single sunlight and the high open window
are the sole observers of the cactus
and his man.

She

She steps out of Rome
ragged edge skirt
fluttering handkerchief style
at her calves
baby in a basket on her arm
the day's affairs in her other hand
she steps under the sun of Ra
setting her child in his basket at her feet
attending to the important minutiae
of a thousand forgotten mornings
she walks the dappled forest track
simply taking up leaf or seed
pausing to root up a mushroom
baby in a sling or a swaying nest of basket
she steps into the mall
hair disarrayed in beauty
busy and swinging gently the basket
pausing for the millionth business transaction
carrying on the world in its basket.

On my 59th Birthday

I am the joy, the leaping hart
heart of my home, praise of my own passion
Here, Here, Here
I stretch like my cat on my own hearth
I reach like my flowers into the sunlight, swaying
I sing softly as the nesting birds in my planted trees
there, and there, and there,
My breath is the high clear wind.
My limbs are the foundations of mountains.
Let me lay me down in joy.

Congratulations!

Dawn L. C. Miller just had two poems accepted for publication by Pegasus magazine! They were "Kindred Spirits, by Karl S." and "She." (Applause!)