Spring

Curlicue, curlicue
what a funny little line.

A shape that swirls
and curls
and twirls
around us
all the time.

It twines
around the farmyard, too.

It winds
around the town.

I've seen it
round the pumpkin patch
unfolding up and down.

Our galaxy's a curlicue
--a galactic, cinnamon twist--

Full of stars
and sugar dust
and powdered
moon-lit mist.

I looked inside a snail's shell
and deep inside an ear

And there it was
--that twirly shape
that I'm describing here!

A lollipop,
a curly lock,
a tail on a boar

The water
swirling down the drain,
a tornadoe's wicked roar.

Like steps
that spiral
round and round
inside the castle tower,

The curlicue
is shaping life
with stunning
genome power.

By: Sarah L. Garriott

An Island Passage

It stretches long.
Winding itself
back and forth
maintaining
its bi-polar course

It bends.

Wandering lazily
through the evergreens
dressing itself
in Autumn's foliage

It heaves.

Skimming along
the seashore
soaking up salt and sun

It facilitates life.

Rushing past
storefronts
cascading
down down
to the Sound

It brings me home
again.