Tag Archives: poetry


img_1492Earth of rock and moss

Underneath is gravity

Holding, hugging us.

Source: Haiku


The Leaky Brain

Winter Sunrise

Winter Sunrise

Seeking Light’s clarity
Waitin for the grey sky
Dawn to erupt and distract.
Once again, to see brown
Branches reaching and birds
Flying out of the tangle.
In drab winter, look up.
Changing color every second
Blues above, red, orange,
Yellows on the horizon
Clouds changing configuration
Moving in unseen wind
Startling, unique forms
As if every sunrise is new.

One Day, One Minute



December made way for January
overnight.  The temperature fell,
celebrations ended just as a long
winter month began. Inside, the tree
is drooping. The smell of butter
cookies lingers underneath the New
Year’s roast. It is time for the cold
to coat the land frosty white and wind
to whip stiff branches that, like bones,
rattle as they swing. Yet, today is one
minute longer than yesterday.

Happy New Year!


Journey To The Heart

The Verrazano Narrows Bridge.

The Verrazano Narrows Bridge.

How to get ready?
What is needed? What
can be left in the closet?

I would like to leave the scars at home. The tough skin designed to protect from further damage can get very heavy. Not possible. The scars travel with me. I can leave false friendships. That will certainly lighten the load. I have to take love but that won’t be easy to carry. It’s so very fragile, so prone to fading and fraying. I must be cautious. Luckily, memories are stowed in the mind and, though weighty to someone like me who has lived decades, they travel compactly. I will take the self-confident look, the friendly smile, the understanding that comes from long life. Although anxiety and sadness and fear are coming, I am packing them in travel size bottles that meet Transportation Security Administration requirements.

On Location–Friday the 13th


This day in mid-November
is one of Nature’s cruel days.
The sun rose over a monotone
gray sky like lethal gas looking
to descend on us.  Instead,
a cold drizzle falls hitting
my face like pin pricks.
The constant wind is enough
to pull the remaining color
from trees to littered ground.
Occasionally, a bird flies
through the heavy air
and landing on a bare branch,
turning its head, it surveys
the scene and takes off.

Vanilla Ice Cream and Coffee

Hidden pond in Athens, New York

gy,le 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.