REDUCED
She drips eloquence,
but her needs, desires, and core
are not free to speak.
© Marie Elena Good, 2022
#seventeenintwentytwo
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
Tag: Life changes
May 29, 2022
May 3, 2020
AWAITING WATERSHEDS
Photo by Keith R. Good
Every crisis in my life
has left expected tinges
I wish were erasable,
but also unforeseen traces
of the embraceable.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
April 26, 2020
PANDEMIC
Imprint in Concrete photo by Keith R. Good
We’re navigating
necessary conversions
to our way of life.
Maybe we’ve traded
trite for substance. And maybe
we can keep the change.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
September 23, 2018
LOCKED
“Pandora’s Box” prompt and photo, provided by Walter Wojtanik of Poetic Bloomings
Out of fear
(or worse — indifference)
she waited too long
to unlock the trunk she daily
(habitually)
avoided. Tripped over. Pretended wasn’t there.
Summoning the courage, she unlocked it.
Discovered a long-lost page.
Dulled. Faded. Not easily read.
Less easily understood.
For times had changed,
and, therefore,
the truths that had shaped them.
Right?
As she tried to examine
and understand,
she began to question
everything.
Perhaps wrong paths had been taken.
Destructive habits had formed.
Perhaps what was true, then,
was no less true, now.
Perhaps times change,
but truths remain.
Perhaps it was up to her
to unlock
release
embrace.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
August 13, 2018
CURRENT
Her toes, tanned,
saunter in sand
as sun wanes.
She remains,
steeped in still
-nes’tled blush of dusk.
Settled. Hushed.
Moon taunts her,
fetching her heart –
sketching shore shadows –
stretching fern and frond
beyond her vision.
And far beyond
her once-upon-a-sand
box.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
April 24, 2018
St. Thomas Island’s Caret Bay (“Someday” Comes – a Roundelay)
Exploring life on new frontiers,
Today my luvs move far away.
Our seasons come in waves and tiers
As drizzle falls from sky of gray
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.
Our seasons come in waves and tiers.
As drizzle falls from sky of gray.
Attentive to the fleeting years,
I want for them sun’s ray. Son’s ray.
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.
Acquainted with life’s fleeting years,
I want for them sun’s ray. Son’s ray.
May God’s vast grasp be crystal clear,
And richly sensed on Caret Bay.
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.
May God’s vast grasp be crystal clear,
And richly sensed on Caret Bay.
Goodbyes are said, and it appears
The time is now, and not “someday.”
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
pictured words 