Walkway

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Walkway

I want to take you everywhere
and show you what I see
but you take me for granted
and just walk all over me.

When you find me charming
and you take me somewhere nice
you still go off and leave me
never seeming to think twice.

All I do is wait for you
pedestrian of me,
if you treat me like a walkway
then your walkway I will be.

Rebecca Sanchez © 2015

This photo was taken by me in Oakland, CA.

Under Summer Skies

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Under Summer Skies

Under summer skies we played
fair and blue on Warrington Lake
we jumped in waters stained with clouds
swam through lily pads out to the raft
leaped into the cold and deep
muck sucking at our feet
while fish nibbled at our white skin
giggling and screaming all the while
of course, someone would always cry
later on forgetting why
for memories are always kind that way
when the family meets for summer play.

Hiking ’round the lake for fun
picking winterberries and wildflowers
while watching for bears
changing clothes with biting horseflies
lake perch that grandpa caught
with bread and fresh blueberries
this and more I do remember
wonderful times I’ll treasure forever
for memories are always kind that way
when the family meets for summer play.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Thank you, everyone, for the summer skies and fun back then! Love always, Bekkie

Written for my family (you know who you are) in memory of my cousin Jay Banasyznski who passed away recently. I was happy to see him 2 years ago at the wedding after not seeing him for 40 plus years. When I think of him now I picture him as an always smiling big kid, like when I last saw him most.

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Jay really hasn’t changed much here. Jay (left) and Uncle Gene (right) at the wedding. I took the picture of Warrington Lake on this visit to Uncle Gene’s place. Love you.

Written for the prompt summer with my friends at Poets United.

Haiku #32818

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haiku #32818

the warmth of springtime
payment for a long winter
life awakening

the big thaw come spring
good things come to those who wait
it pays to be patient

during Eastertide
I visit dead relatives
to pay my respects

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

The image is my photography animated from my bike rides on the Bay Trail in San Mateo, CA.

A trio of haiku written with Haiku Horizons for the prompt pay.

Tanaga #31718 (Faded Clover)

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Tanaga #31718 (Faded Clover)

I found a four-leaf-clover
I picked and turned it over
now I’m the lucky holder
both fade as we grow older.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I’m not Irish with a name like Sanchez but I found this 4 leaf clover decades ago in Indiana and put it in this old prescription bottle (they used to be glass with plastic stoppers in my dad’s day) where it’s stayed to this day. I’ve never taken the top off but I doubt it’d hurt it much although it could crumble now. I think I’ll leave it be but wanted to share it with my Tanaga today.

Written with my friends at the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads for St. Pat’s Day.

These Moments I Hold Dear

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These Moments I Hold Dear

It’s these moments I hold dear
the warm sunshine on my skin
rolling away the passing years.

On my face you’ll find a grin
as nature heals my many ills
I find a wonderful peace within.

I will never have my fill
of watching wetlands as I glide
up and down the bayside hills.

My vintage bicycle as my guide
in the saddle time does fly
but I grow younger as I ride.

Rolling away the passing years
it’s these moments I hold dear.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

The photo was taken on a bike ride and I put it through an art filter.

Wrote a terza rima for the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Linking up with my friends at Poets United. A few days late (although I had the poem done on time) but am finally linking it today after getting over my bad sinus infection. Gave me a chance to link with both groups!

Haiku #10317

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haiku #10317

leaves fall on the water
snowy egrets roost
autumn at high tide

Written for the prompt “fall” at Haiku Horizons. The photograph is mine taken while cycling on the San Francisco Bay and waterways. Snowy Egrets only roost at certain times of the day and season.

The Murder

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The Murder

It was a murder
perfected and performed
flashes of black
diving after scurrying figures
nowhere to hide
the violence
silent and quick.

A high scream
pierced the autumn air
flesh torn from bone
blood gushing forth
eyes glazing
as the heart stops
extremities twitching.

When all is picked clean
the killers move on
some bodies are carried away
most are never found
all of it murder.

Some call it survival
the others-
nevermore.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I wrote this about my animated photo of crows taken on a bicycle ride.