Heather M. Browne

Cloud Binge

There’s a loneliness in clouds,

an unfillable need,

desperate to hold, to hug.

They scour the sky hungry,

swallowing gulps and ravenous licks,

trying to satiate and stuff.

Oblivious to taste,

dust or air, displeased,

their bellies bursting and loud,

greedily they split and weep.

Thundering tantrums,

their stomachs wail

and moan.

I hear them shatter the sky.

Elephant Feet

Elephant feet beat.

Swatting flies in metronome and bony tail.

The gibbons scream

For all these thirsty roots and souls.

There’s little water here.

Dehydration and stampede

The plains recall their weight,

Pounded out layer on layer,

Until earth tears its hardened skin,

Offering hooves from ancient tombs.

They will not let me ride.

Nor crawl upon their concave hide.

No cooling with their mighty flap.

Affection packed in trunks.

I am left alone and stray.

Honeysuckle Kiss

The air tried to pull in his powerful breath

Hold himself back from self

To hang, floatlessly adrift

Defeating gravity, defying nature, suspend

Without weight

Anxiously, eagerly with lips pressed tight

Awaiting the kiss of honeysuckled bud

Who wrapped herself within her petaled cloak

Holding herself tight in fingered grip

But slowly, sweetly,

peeking through her golden stamen fringe

Unbuttoning her lacy frilly edge

She tenderly laid petaled curve

Upon his patient waiting hand

He dared not breathe an ounce

Not one whiff

And waited, still, for her to open

Her sweetened scent touching his lips, his nose

Waiting to celebrate the beauty of her kiss

The gentleness of her bloom

Fragile within his breezy steady hands

Heather M. Browne

Heather M. Browne is a faith-based psychotherapist, recently nominated for the Pushcart Award, published in the Orange Room, Boston Literary Review, Page & Spine, Eunoia Review, Poetry Quarterly, Red Fez, Electric Windmill, Apeiron, The Lake, Knot, mad swirl.  Red Dashboard published two collections: Directions of Folding and Altar Call of Trumpets.