Tuesday, August 24, 2010

A Trilogy (2 of 3 posted)

An Amoeba Observed
By Tula Homes

You came to me
the perfect creation;
a single cell amoeba,
the beginning of life.
I watched in the lens
when your shape changed.
The smooth wall grew rough like cancer.
Through the microscope of time,
I observed your cell divide
as an hourglass.
The fantasy separated from the
binding thread.
Once a single entity,
now two.
Perhaps the next observer will see you clearly,
when you float,
avoiding the microscope.

Burning Poem
By Tula Holmes

Yellow smoke rises from scorched paper.
Words in red
bubble in toxic sores,
and fire consumes the page.
I hold the corner to keep flames burning.
Like the souls of the dead,
I feel your spirit leave.
Grey ash falls to the asphalt
like the dead leaves of winter.
The evening rain washes away
all reminders of you.