Tropical Storm Night swells rainbands’ rhyming catapults against the haven of our walls and porches flooding wild-flung puddles in the air and hapless water bottles cruise the streets. A howling dawn reports its restless rain broadcast into every whirling tree till suddenly the Eye gives utter truce, its held-breath Seeing an eternity, moves unblinking on its throne of chaos, tumult heralding its passing-through over waters turbulent with praise as tiny creatures huddle open-eyed alive and wet, and more than us, aware.
All the Dying Roses Still uplifted, pinks and reds hold soft their drying hours where pollinators flew searching for some clue. No honey in the jar, no homemade anything, the way of things is dying, no sign grand old worlds were mine. Basking in the sun, my lizard ways sink deep into their moment, no accolades but calm— petals fall like psalm.
Bio-photography I suppose it was a grasshopper with invisible eyes or something green where eyes should be as he clung body full against green blade motionless and I peered into him, searching as if he were a lightweight piece of me, legs sawtoothed, bent and then I took the shot and took it home to take my time to see the tiny pupils and thin green antennae— but what they sensed was nowhere to be sought and what I thought I knew was only dregs.
Siham Karami is the author of To Love the River (Kelsay Books, 2018). Her work has been published in The Orison Anthology, Smartish Pace (third place winner in the Beulah Rose contest), Tiferet Journal, Orchards Poetry (featured poet), and Think Journal, among many others. A three-time Laureate prize-winner in the Maria W. Faust sonnet competition, she also enjoys long walks and nature photography.

Vivid and enjoyable! Thanks.
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Thanks for your comment – it surely cheered me up!
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Thanks, you cheered me up! Glad you enjoyed them.
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