A Book For Pandora - Kathryn Rossati

A Rainy Afternoon

It begins as a light tapping

on glass,

a rhythmic patter

of ghostly fingers

that leave only tear streaks down the pane.

Wellies left outside the door

in a rush

soon begin to fill

and seeds cast on bird tables glisten

like small nuggets of gold.

The smell of the earth rises,

bringing forth a crowd of slugs and snails

who rummage through fallen leaves.

A tiny river courses along the path,

wetting moss and stone,

finally pooling in the dip that always stays

just a little bit damp.

That In Between Place

The cogs grind against

mushy cloud,

stirring the fluff into shape:

a solid form of wakefulness

that yearns to drift apart.

Bind it tight,

coil the springs up

with a stern twist of key;

barricade it against the cushy strands.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Tock.

The alarm sings its unwelcome greeting.

On the Move

Rolling hills tumble;

the train passes them before a breath can be taken.

No chugging along,

full

speed

ahead!

Gazes dip as it reaches the bridge.

The earth falls away.

We are floating. Momentarily.

Swift as a swift,

the ground stacks itself again.

Exhales are heard -

the hills give a thundering chuckle.

Ripples

A ripple in a glass of water

can never leave the glass.

Yet if the glass ever cracks,

the water can push against it,

working away to force an opening.

Even if the gap it makes is only

wide enough for a trickle to escape,

sometimes that trickle is all that's needed.

Seeping across the table,

weaving its way through discarded cutlery,

crusted salt and pepper pots

and past dusty, fine china plates

to the edge, where droplets form

ready to drip into the dry soil

filling the plant pot below.

The fresh seeds lying in wait

beneath the surface

will finally get

their spark of life.

The Eager and the Patient

When the door opens

Out bounds

The bumbling bundle of bouncing energy

Wagging its tail

With flaming, eager, sightless eyes.

Uncontrollable happy smiles

Brim from its jowls

Demanding cuddles.

Behind, the experienced one sits

Keen gaze fixed on the attention

The blind bundle receives.

Foolish. Untrained. Impulsive.

But sometimes worth indulging

In a game of tug o' war.

Part of the family now,

After all.

Book Details

AUTHOR NAME: Kathryn Rossati

BOOK TITLE: A Book For Pandora

GENRE: Nonfiction

SUBGENRE: Poetry

PAGE COUNT: 104

IN THE BLOG: New Poetry Books