Full Moon Beyond the Trees.
Hours before dawn
the full moon’s light diffuses
in the empty sky.
Shadows cross paths with weak beams,
wind gusts hide the sound of screams.
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At the Nassau Museum of Art
Much of my time is spent alone. I don’t mind. I think I was meant to
work and live with minimum distractions. That doesn’t mean that I don’t need to reach out to others, to touch and be touched. And, I have learned
just how important it is to connect with the world. So, I schedule regular trips to museums. The desire to see exhibits of how the world once was as well as examples of how civilizations view the world evolved from lunchtime trips to the Soho Art Galleries when I worked in Greenwich Village to quick visits to the Museum of Modern Art when I worked on Sixth Avenue and 52nd Street. Of course, there were the days spent at the Museum of Natural History where I would take my daughter to linger (where else?) at the Dinosaur Exhibits. Now that I work from home, jaunts to museums have to planned but I delight in setting aside days to wander around the slightly claustrophobic, temperature and humidity controlled rooms that hold the world’s beauty as interpreted by mere mortals.
Remember the fear,
the superstitious, the world
of unknown evils
the cracks, the spiders, mirrors,
dread of Friday the thirteenth.
Miniature Writing Challenge #13 | An Artist at Heart
Sunrise over Montauk, NY
January 31, 2015
Our sun in early morning jumps above
the horizon and birds awake to greet
the light. The air is cool and carries love.
our eyes are turned to this wondrous feat.
You slowly rise, unfolding vision bright
and we are grateful. You are our dear friend.
A friend who brings us gifts of much delight.
Unselfish you to give and not to lend.
And you understand our longing, our dreams.
It’s you who govern beyond the seasons
and guide us through life with your yellow beams.
Yes, you provide always, no need for reasons.
This love we feel returned brings much pleasure.
Although not often said: You’re a treasure.
Today is a
day, with mean
around the side of
the mountain. Do I
venture into the cold
brittle air to climb to the top?
Just to be above the land, just
me and the moody sky pushing
gray clouds–even the sun looks cold
today. I am alone in this attempt but prepared
for the challenge. I can insulate myself
from weather. It’s so much more difficult
(almost impossible) to protect from the effects of a
Hidden pond in Athens, New York
I awake with the taste of ice cream–
vanilla–on my tongue. A dream.
I realize you are not with me, not here.
My heart called you near.
For a moment, the darkness of a winter day
is filled with light and snow at play.
Then, the smell of coffee: energetic, strong,
takes me to the home where I belong.
Alone, my mind follows my heart.
The path skips over when you and I part.
Instead, the memories I choose
are filtered–nothing to lose.
Your smooth body in my bed,
the soft touch of your arm out spread,
kind look, sharing laughs, you kiss.
All of this I miss.
Long Island, New York
My neighborhood sits between Sound
and Atlantic Ocean.
A tree lined, sandy and flat land
steady against motion.
Open to gales up from the sea,
it mostly sits so calm
as winter wind lashes and cuts
to summer’s breezy balm.
Over and over, sea hits shore
and spongy, wide beaches
absorb shock for ages–ages–
into depths it reaches.
Salty odors permeate land
and gulls sad cries remind
of ancient, forever lost times,
those years were less than kind.
But, the ocean’s roaring rhythm
upon the still, hard earth
does wash over psyche leaving
a residue since birth.