Village Life

     Happy Tree by Sunita Khedekar

Underneath the Happy Tree

we build our village:

cozy houses

whose stout roofs never leak,

warm, copper kitchens

that smell of fresh-baked bread,

and bedrooms

with down-filled dreams

folded at the foot

of each and every bed.

We are so snug and smug

sometimes we forget

to look to the sky

and see the souls fly home.

This is for both G-man and his FF55  and Grace at dVerse.  Click on the links and check them out.  Ok, I missed the dVerse deadline to link up, but you should still go there and check out all the beautiful art work and the talented writers' responses.

Choir Loft

Tuesday is funeral day.

I sit above

and watch the pews fill

with sober, black overcoats.

They recite dry words

with mouths

already half-full of dirt.

Too many grey heads

nod and bob below,

though one less

than last Sunday.

The old rites

are blowing away

in the February chill

as we sing this soul home.

This is for G-man's FF55.  Late, so to speak.  Sorry for the dreary topic on Valentin's day, but I sing in a little country church choir and a funeral on Tuesday for a man I don't know at all got me thinking.  I'm still thinking, but here's the first bit.

Micorfiction Monday #72

It's Monday, and that means time for Microfiction Monday! Susan at Stony River provides a picture and challenges us to create a story using 140 characters or fewer. So without further ado I give you my haiku:

With one final step
The blue suede shoes are complete:
Now to add the soul