Getting the Drift

skipping around in the sunshine

scrapes sand scratchy beats

against the sole of my memory

the miles we trod,

with the weight

of a brain stuffed with thinking,

leaves only a scrap of laughter

on the bus stop bench

more bass than treble

his voice needs that much

adjustment

tell him yourself

I have skips to count

and preserve 

somehow

without telling myself

old shoes sound better

on swept pavement

M. Flannery

July 2025

Gravel Paths

Gravel lines the paths

of my neurons.

texture organic, it sounds

as if my woes

are cracking out

of speckled memory eggs.

some of the past

will cackle right away

while others will sway

to the smile melody

dancing on my lips.

my belly brain cupboard

is sorted, can to box,

plastic to tin.

silence in the dark,

the unfolding of me 

into this day,

drags thoughts

into a new rhythm. 

I know that now,

there are two aitches

in rhythm.

M. Flannery

June 2025

~~~~~~~~~~~

Conversation Pathways

There are paths to clear,

words, eyebrows askew, smiles

paving moments with faults

and skills we ignore

until the conversation is over.

Did you hear what he said?

Her bucket of bad memories

hangs from the fence post.

Let us chat and laugh

about the weather.

M. Flannery

May 2025

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Between posting, the time that passes feels old, worn and weary. I need a refresh.

I’ve had thoughts about searching for an attitude to take me through Spring cleaning and the side projects (that will make me pleased when they are done). Writing a poem, no matter the length, was the start of my search. Looking toward summer is easy as today is very sunny. Those thoughts bring me to think about being outdoors, chatting in passing with folks. 

Whala! A poem.