Life With Horace

poetry & essays


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everyday pleasures

at the piano I watch
small fingers make their music
so determined so well done
the joy in her eyes
is in my heart
joking laughter with
her brother, so much taller
than the last time
more movies made
and volumes read
a classroom visit
sticky hands and icing
gingerbread embellished
a dog asleep in sunlight
the rhythm of lives cherished
and held close in memory
to be enriched once more

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this poem was written as I read about the events in the lives of two very dear members of an online creative group I belong to. it is posted in recognition of profound love and loss, and my abiding gratitude for the love of my family, as we gather together this week.


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the growing point

upright still sentry
outlier for the world beneath
a winter effigy
belying spring’s next promise
it stands in ice and snow

a window sill
bright warmth and light
protects a tender shoot
fresh green against
a gray and silver backdrop
green lava moving upward

my own such point
is not so clearly seen or felt
a junction of my
spirit, trust and will
reagent for the heady mix
that grows joy in my soul

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a poem for a winter afternoon, as the days draw down to the solstice.