Quent Cordair's Blog, page 3

Someday

 

Someday Life is short, its oft remarked, Too short, theyll say, and drift another day, Mile markers passing, gravestones fey, Dreams once held like children dear Last seen along the desert way, Standing on the baked road shoulder, Staring in mute disbelief at the pulling away, Awaiting the change of heart, surely, A regretful glance back, at least Left, dry-eyed and hopeful, with nothing But to watch the defining lines of intent Merge and melt into the distant liquid lure, The...

Still the Angels

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The Robin’s Nest

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You seek love, Amelie said, finally, emerging from her long silence. She was studying a ladybug that had lit on the hem of her skirt to wind its way purposefully, probingly along the line of silk stitches. She hadnt once glanced at Catherine since theyd stopped to sit on the garden bench. Love is always worth finding, yes, she continued, but it is trust I want. If only I might trust again. Trust is more precious than love, you know, more essential. Love depends on trust. Without trust,...

Save the Tigers (free fiction)

Judging from my social-media feeds, some of my friends are either reaching the bottom of their entertainment barrel or have already poked right through the bottom and started digging. (I wouldnt name any of the TV shows being mentioned, but lets just say that even the tigers are reportedly embarrassed to be in one of them.)

Let me help. Im going to start making some of my 5-star fiction free to download, for a limited time, to help get us through these surreal days with minds and souls...

The Gravity Field

She lay naked, face up, head to the north, feet to the south, arms outstretched, hands east and west, eyes full of stars. Beneath her back the lumped clods of dirt and broken carcasses of last seasons grain, moist from the nights dew, served well enough for pillow and mattress, meshed with her hair, pressed against her bare skin. The cloudless sky offered no protection. She needed none. She took in the universe until she found her place again in the solar system, in the galaxy, feeling the...

That indomitable look…

Appropriate, I think, for days like these ~

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Enjoy more acclaimed Cordair poetry & short fiction in My Kingdom , now available in paperback and Kindle editions.

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Still the Angels

Again they called to heaven When contagion laid them low, Again the angels came from earth In answer to the blow. The caring hands that fought for life While risking their own breath Deserve the credit paid, instead, To one who would send death.   ~ Quent Cordair, 2020

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Character

This poem becomes more relevant by the day, unfortunately. Penned in December of 2016, may Character inspire reflection, from now through November and on.

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The shuffling line from dock to deck
Turns up the plank to ticket check.
Those early on the rails above
Wave wanly down to ones they love;
A long look down to ones they love.

Mark the ship, her lines and seams,
A welding of designers dreams
And builders craftbut is she true?
Or will she break against the blue?
How will she fare...

Stand

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Enjoy more acclaimed Quent Cordair poetry & short fiction in My Kingdom, now available in paperback and Kindle editions.

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Last Light

I won’t be laid to rest.
I’ll lay myself down, thank you,
With no pretense of rising again,
All my rising and resting through.
When these curtaining eyes have closed
And this body lies long and still,
I’ll linger yet on the stage
Till after all have gone,
All but the boy in the third row,
The one who looks just like me.
To him I’ll give my solemn, final bow,
And a wink,
Before nodding to the balcony
For the last light
To be brought down.

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