OH, THE HUMIDITY

Hot and cold
The air can't decide
Whether
To be
Breathable or
Suffocating
As here I sit
Smothered
In
H20.


~Shana C. Sloan

My Photo of the Day: POWER

http://www.etsy.com/listing/13774066/power-5x7-fine-art-photography-print

Snazzy

Ella Fitzgerald's
Jazz
Floating in
From the living room
Makes
Surviving in this
Blues
Room
Much more
Tolerable.


~Shana C. Sloan

My Photo of the Day: STRENGTH

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=6540381

My Photo of the Day: SUMMERTIME DREAMS

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=11319226

Color My World

Sky yellow

Grass blue

Sun green

Dream purple

Childhood.



~Shana C. Sloan

I Remember

A little boy
Arms out like wings
On his daddy's shoulders
In the Target parking lot
Say hello, Dad says
HELLO, the little boy shouts and smiles
Oh to trust
And fly
Like that
Again.


~Shana C. Sloan

Over Time

Hair blonde
In the 60's sun
My pig-tails of stubby candy canes
Made my head look happy.
Hair brown
Middle school perms good and bad
Settled in for a spell
While braces came and went.
Hair brownish-gray
Silver wires
Sprout easily these days
I tame them with a bottle.

~Shana C. Sloan

A Mess

Concentration is
Difficult today
Mind filled with
Squares and circles
That do not fit
Maybe if I
Pull my thoughts out
One at a time
They will
Untangle
The Spaghetti
that is currently
My brain.

~Shana C. Sloan

Joshua

My hand
Will always be here
If you ever need to
Grab it
So freely you love
And enjoy your world
Every bug and bird a new friend
Each grain of sand a story untold
You ride the
Carousel of your day
Smiling and carefree
Until you look around
And fear
Just for a moment
That I am gone
Forward you race
Mama!
Soon I see tiny fingers
Reaching
Out of the corner of my eye
Grab it!
It will always be here
My hand.

~Shana C. Sloan

Monday

The smell pierces me
Blankets cannot conceal it
Burnt coffee morning.


~Shana C. Sloan

I Wonder

I wonder how many
Crumpled up papers
Writers have flung into
Wastebaskets
How many pencils
Snapped in anger
How many
MacBeths
'Night Mothers and
Hamlets
Have been left to
Fill up the holes
Left by frustrated poets
As they marched through
Unkept backyards
Searching for
Just the right
Words.

~Shana C. Sloan

A Goodbye

My last night here
In my friend's apartment.
My last night here
In my apartment.
All the brick
All the high ceilings
All the memories
Gone
Locked behind the door
To which I no longer
Hold a key
Hidden under a stranger's
Posters
His/her taste unknown.

~Shana C. Sloan