[Poetry] Four Poems by Pamela Pete


mackerel skies


i'm driving through mountains

on this blue gray evening

looking at the cloudlets in awe

i find solace and love

all the variations of softness


the pouch of the mammatus

forms a heart my mothers

i feel her smile enrich the air


high heaping rolls layers

of altocumulus

resemble my life

hole punched

next to a cirrus forming

long arms

with folded hands

praying for me

globular masses move

reshape and disappear

the altocumulus it stays

for the next forty miles

over

snow crowned mountains


it stays with me


arms elongating hands clasped

as i round the bend

a head and back appear

kneeling

multi-level

stratocumulus threaten rain

but in the heap

and height of the billowy clouds


under the protective chest

an egress a tiny sliver of light

not belonging

to the dusk and diming days








the night speaks


i stand in the cold alone

there is no thought of the day's heft

or of empty humming-bird feeders


the night air smells of burning wood

omnipresent and full


neighbors nestle for the night

curtains drawn

the moon suspended

pulling on clouds like covers


one by one house lights

illuminate dusk

tree shadows dance

on the white garage stage

clouds roll by like an audience

tinged with pink drifts

the night is wonderful


echoing barks break the silence

low growling motorcycles

and distant traffic


yet for a few hours


for a few hours stillness is sweet

the chill comforting

outside in the cold



unraveling



so gradual almost imperceptible


one wool thread picked at


we should've burned not cut

or with needle

pointedly pulled back


we did neither



it happens to me too

the search for keys in hand

we both laughed about it



through the tightest weave of fabric


fragments of time sifting mind

denying we knew we saw she thread



spun of torment thinning longer

as if being pulled


fraying

in the soft grey corners deepening

fear

burrows in both– us


errands now humongous chest

tightening fear

she called me crying i'm lost


familiarity catches the corner

of her eye


the thread

hangs crooked with bends

weave pattern reminders


aunts mother


snagged on places words


remnants minds edges

remnants


seventy years of worth heaped

high

tripping


family hope and promises

replaced with acceptance


as the last stitch is slowly

undone




Chief Master Sergeant, United States Air Force veteran, Pamela Peté, is a Poet, Motivational Speaker, Author, Goal Coach, founder, and CEO of Masterful Purpose, LLC, a global speaking and personal development company.


Poetry is Pamela's gift, and she has been writing poetry for over fifty years and has delivered her spoken word poetry internationally. She recently completed her MFA (Master of Fine Arts) with an emphasis in poetry at the University of California Riverside. Pamela ties her poetry into her speaking, which has given her success connecting with her audiences.


Pamela lives in Hesperia, California, with her husband, Larry, dog Kelly and One Fish. When she isn't writing poetry, she is enjoying her twenty-two grandchildren, gardening, and photography.


Her motto is "Wake-up on Purpose– Your Masterful Purpose!"





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