Whitewater

Whitewater
by Betsy McKenzie













My stream,
Smoothly
Sliding,
Flowed through
Silent woods.
Midway down the whispering stream,
There came a sudden change.
Big rocks, then boulders,
Riffling and crashing the
Smooth flow.

Whitewater
Mixed with air,
Flashed with light.
What was crystal,
Deep and smooth
Suddenly became
Froth, roar and splash.

Spirit forced its way
Into the watery matter.
In time, the fizz and froth,
Exhausted, subside,
Unless there comes
A sudden cliff,
More interrupting rocks,
Breaking up
My smoothly flowing
Stream.

Rainy Pavements

Rainy Pavements

by Betsy McKenzie

What is it
About water and light?
Like fond sisters,
They enlarge, embolden each other.

Points of light,
Brushed across the wet street,
Into long, moving stripes:
White, green, red and yellow.

Rivers of light
Transforming
The rainy street.

December 3, 2006
Photograph by Sara Lovering, http://www.saralovering.com/gallery/2003/11/chicago_night_t_1.php, of a Chicago street on a rainy night.

Shadows on a Cloudy Day

Shadows on a Cloudy Day
by Betsy McKenzie

Ghosts of shadows,
Mere shadows
of their fomer selves,
Faintly following,
On a cloudy day.
They drift.
They glint.
They blink and
Flitter
In and out
Of being.
The slightest
Brightening
Brings them back.
Hints of
Depression
Turning back up
Just when you
Think
The sun is back to stay.

Aug. 24, 2006

The decoration for this page is from http://www.polarimage.fi/clouds3/shadowa.htm.
Thank you Pikka!

Waiting for the Sun


Waiting for the Sun
Betsy McKenzie

All my life, I have awaited the dawn;
Getting up at outlandish hours
Just to see the sunrise.
For a short while, I had a job
As a night foaling watchman.
All night, I sat up in the barns,
Waiting to see if the mares would
Go into to labor that night.
When the sun rose, my shift was over.
How I longed for the sun.
Little mice ran across the floor,
Moving so fast, I could just see
Brown blurs, shooting around by the walls.
Then, the sky would tinge with green,
And barn swallows would take over
From the night flying bats.
Tonight, I am waiting for the dawn,
Like a night watchman,
Counting off the hours,
Longing for the sunrise.

March 13, 2006