Life With Horace

poetry & essays


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Insistent messenger

A mourning dove is in the apple tree
looking through the window straight at me
its message clearly meant to prod
the sun is shrinking as the cold returns
woods maple tops spike leafless now
bronzing oaks and candle beech stand guard
water lilies sunk into the pond again
the scooped out waning moon brings frost
the bears have gone asleep denned up the hill
not quite past time to offer seeds but hurry
or the jays will bring their beaks



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Sun 1

What brings you to your knees sun
on mornings when you flee the other world
and mask yourself with cloud
flattening the day’s light into scrim
I feel certain of your grief
and lie resigned to graying tears
running down a window cheek
the house dogs take dimness
as a time to sleep
so there is that


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Mountain top

Stars began to drop
into the growing dark
of a clear night sky
as I came down
the mountain
to our woods
the trail familiar
boots sure in waning light

I went up alone
wanting the feel of you
knowing you would ride
the swirl of wind
on every peak
including mine

I sat waiting, the
wolf burn bare granite
still comfort warm
close to sunset
my words escaping
into the rising drafts
as song, wait for me
I will be there given time




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A way through

Birds perch on the balding arms
and bud knobbed fingers
of the kitchen door apple tree
There is a flashing gleam
from the eye of a jay
the sun finding unlikely passage
My mind blinks in disbelief
that such a thing could be
My heart knows better
and begins to sing