Fragments of bread
hours after supper
fill my ceaseless hunger —
Midnight and the light
is sparse,
the camel-eyed windows
gaze
at Giacometti
shadows —
Daybreak alights:
I laugh with the warblers,
and the breath of my nostrils
fires the oven,
the bread for my hunger,
once again.
by D. G. Vachal © 2013
Cold tentacles
hold on
to burgeoning branches
beneath the April sun:
yellow butterflies alight
upon celadon lapels
of petal-packed corollas —
Skies are cyan, crystal-clear,
embossed with goose
down pillows
soaked
in alabaster dreams —
There are treasures in the morning,
this platinum morning:
emerald and gold
glimmer
over infantile leaves
of oak and elm —
ruby and sapphire,
topaz, turquoise and amethyst
sparkle
in the tranquil blooming
of the promised flowers.
by D. G. Vachal © 2013
*** Photograph by Anita Martinz @ Wikimedia Commons
The Edge of Bloom
Almost, at this moment:
no matter how feeble the light
upon the trees,
despite this night benumbed,
there are buds that tiptoe
at the pinnacle of jagged cliffs,
careening
at the edge
of bloom —
this miracle,
this dance of beauty
cannot be halted,
cannot be restrained.
by D. G. Vachal © 2013
*** Image by Wikimedia Commons
lilies, sparrows and grass 
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