Posts
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Poem No. 78 of Many
Not the days when birds come back -
these are the days when cardinals come to life.
I never notice them in summer.
It is only when the snow begins to fall
that their bright red coloring appears at all. -
November existence
It’s November, and music and words have long become a refuge for me. They always held open arms for me, but now more so than ever. Every minute without music feels like I am being strangled. My violin has sprouted both a piano and a guitar. -
Emily Dickinson: These Are the Days When Birds Come Back
I'm grateful for these last few
warm October nights (always
thinking each one is the last) because
I am able to savor the last
bits of summer (blissful memories) when -
Afternoon sun in the fall
These past few months, I've fallen in love with
the way the afternoon sun rests
upon the foot of my bed & finds
its way to the windowsill across my bedroom.
In the past I only knew the sun -
Word Master, Attempt #503
Thoughts concerning poetry
words rhythms phrases
punctuation, and the like -
My Calendar Must be Wrong
It's October,
says my calendar,
but I'm not so easily convinced, even though
my cherry tomatoes tasted like pumpkins tonight
& I'm struggling to explain why.
Loves
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it's sunset
step outside
the breeze is blowing
wisps of cirrus cloud
the sky is blue
the geese are leaving
farewell
we say
and don't mean it
mean it please for once
the turning leaves will thank you
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When Everything is Well
in a little sun filled gale
there is a wooden swing
it's creaky and it's old, but then
so is everything
it is so dear and pretty
the meadow's filled with bees
there are flowers brushed
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Half-Remembered Memory
After Robert Frost's Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening
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The Fairytales We Never Outgrow
Once, we believed in the Tooth Fairy,
a girl in glitter with sparkly wings,
who would sneak in the dark,
to swap teeth for quarters,
as if they were treasures,
as if our childhood decay
was worth more than gold.
