Sunday, May 16, 2010


For Christopher

I held you in a locket, my love,
your image perfectly cast
and frozen in time. You thought
you were free to grow,
live and learn, become old.
But I had you there,
borne pendulous, trapped
on a silver thread, a spider’s charm
spun perfectly around my neck.

Rachel Westfall
May 14, 2010

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Three graces in the morning fields of gold

Step over to Catvibe Creative and check out the image prompt and contest Cat has started over there. You have until this Saturday to craft an entry. Oh, and while you are at it, take a peek in her art store. Her stuff is really pretty fabulous!

Here is the poem I wrote for Cat's image prompt.

The moon’s slow grace runs golden through
the apple fields as though it knows
those amber honey words she’d lapped
in slow and patient strokes from her
sweet lover’s tongue before they slipped
away so fleetingly, and now
each night she haunts the fields in search
of something lost that precious night
of belfire, bower, hair entwined
with ribbons bright, spring blossoms strewn--
her youth, perhaps, or maiden’s charm
spilled carelessly on meadow loam—
yet morning finds her, endlessly
still older, worn, creased paper-thin
feet moss-dew bathed, brow blessed by night,
kissed by the newborn sun

Rachel Westfall
May 12, 2010

Sunday, May 9, 2010

When I invite you out

Inspired by Christopher

When I invite you out,
you shake your head, overwhelmed
by the dusty piles
in the corner of every room,
the heaps of laundry
strung without malice
over hapless random furniture.

The cat stalks through
in his element here
leaving mysterious urine stains,
an abstract sensory design
among the cast-off sheets.

When I invite you out, I hope
to break the cobweb nest
that binds perniciously, corners
rough to navigate, the toilet
drowning a slow SOS
lost in its own heady stink.
You shake your head,
overwhelmed, quite simply
unable to clear the fog.

Rachel Westfall
May 7, 2010

Friday, May 7, 2010

Real estate

I’ve heard that time seems to speed up as you get older. I didn’t expect it to happen so suddenly, and I’m nowhere near halfway to the finish line. Somehow, as everything races by, I keep missing the opportunity to write down a few lines of poetry.

I started a poem about a week ago, a haiku, and I saved it because it felt like it needed more than three lines to reach completion. Upon re-reading, though, I quite like it the way it is, so I'm posting it, just like that.

Real estate

Windows beckon light
through a shroud, a spider’s veil
farmhouse rotting silk

Rachel Westfall
April 29, 2010