Enclosed

Our bodies were meant
for the sun, the rain,
the gusty winds,
starlight and moon baths,
fresh air and seasons —
so why do we trap ourselves
      in indoor cages?

If we can’t hear the
birds chirp, feel the breezes:
how are we to be refreshed,
to heal, to know the world
beyond the borders
      of our bodies?

—Terri Guillemets

Death lights heavy

Hummingbird mama —
abandons her nonviable eggs
but keeps checking back
a few more times, just to be sure.

Arms fall off a saguaro,
break open on the ground
like fragile eggshells —
after years of desert still-life
a few seconds of death-motion.

But the night breeze is so beautiful
those breezes are — so beautiful,
it’s hard not to get swept away.

—Terri Guillemets

Oh amazing desert, let’s rejoice together!

entire continents of grey-white clouds
hovering serenely in an enormous spring-blue sky
a soaring raven caws out of its element
why are you this far south, beautiful bird?
then all is quiet but for a distant plane
heading to who-knows-where—
what a gorgeous afternoon!
way too beautiful for negative thoughts—
listening to subtle sounds of nature’s energies
oooh, sudden chilly-breeze goosebumps
coolness swirling through sunlit seventy degrees
a day of awe and eerily silent excitement—
winter and spring overlapping at the seams

—Terri Guillemets

Goosebumps

a flock of honking geese
just flew over my city backyard
goosebumps, I got goosebumps

never, ever have I seen this
beautiful feat of nature from
my own little speck I call home

for an awesome morning moment
all my human burdens forgotten

—Terri Guillemets

City-desert nightwalk

Early summer, late at night
Pleasant sweet-smelling air
Clouds veiling a half-lit moon
Scorpius crawling up the sky
Tree-hid birds awake chirping
Lone dog barking in its yard
Startled stray cats darting
Crickets playing insistent songs
Quiet of people gone to bed
Mellow breezes gently stirring
Damp-grass lawns subtly cooling
Street lights too brightly illuming
Saguaro blooms softly glowing

—Terri Guillemets

Jovial vernal verse

Spring is the green
      is the peace
      is the breeze
      and the blossoms
      and the blues
      past the buds
      to the pinks
      on the brink
      and the warmth
      and the warbles
      and the weeds
      all the yellows
      and the bees
      and the buzzing
      living branches
      and the grasses
      and the gardens
      and the growing
      and the blowing
      of the pollens
      oh! the purples
      and the chirples
      of the birds
      and the beauty
      and the butterflies
      in the skies
      and the sun—
Springtime’s fun!

—Terri Guillemets

Poetry of spring

Springtime is a poet —
the blue sky its blank page
so vibrant green the rhyme
a different metre for every clime
birds chirping to keep the time
wildflowers yellow, red, purple divine
words dancing on tall blades of grasses
sparkling in the morning dew
no commas the flow keeps buzzing
vernal dashes & blossoming branches
on newly greening verdant trees
refrains whisper in each breeze
butterflies as floating apostrophes
ladybug-dotted question marks
a flourishing bloom at every stop
continuing a poem that’s never ended
and into summer’s colors is blended

—Terri Guillemets