Dinesh's photos with the keyword: Poets.Org

. . . . . . . Unclasp it like jewels, the gold still hot from your body. Empty your basket of figs. Spill your wine. That hard nugget of pain, I would suck it, cradling it on my tongue like the slick seed of pomegranate. I would lift it tenderly, as a great animal might carry a small one in the private cave of the mouth. Excerpt: Basket of Figs ~ Ellen Bass poets.org/poem/basket-figs

As the falling rain trickles among the stones memories come bubbling out. It's as if the rain had pierced my temples. Streaming streaming chaotically come memories: the reedy voice of the servant telling me tales of ghosts. They sat beside me the ghosts and the bed creaked that purple-dark afternoon when I learned you were leaving forever, a gleaming pebble from constant rubbing becomes a comet. Rain is falling falling and memories keep flooding by they show me a senseless world a voracious world--abyss ambush whirlwind spur but I keep loving it because I do because of my five senses because of my amazement because every morning, because forever, I have loved it without knowing why. ~ Claribel Alegría - 1924-2018