Life With Horace

poetry & essays


Leave a comment

The morning watch

He sits behind the screen,
the sun’s minute hand
remaps his curves in warmth.
With not much else to do
his morning’s work is
out there, living traffic
he will watch and note.
Force marched ants in
single file, small brown toads,
leaf rustles out of sight,
the swooping zizz
of dragonflies.
A hummingbird returns
to drink, then preen. This
makes him smile. Even they
must stop and rest.
The small world quiets, starts to
wait for shade, when high sun
moves away, raptors drafting
on its currents. He sees
and understands. Feeling
stiff he’s up to find another
patch of sun. A whoofing sigh,
then head on paws he sleeps.

Advertisements


Leave a comment

haiku in anticipation of snow with notes

morning fragrances
bird tracks join mine by the door
bring seed snow comes soon

______________________________________
it will snow later this morning and when I left my kitchen with its morning fragrant comforts to feed the birds, the imprints of many bird visitors were plain to see in the snow. have a wonderful saturday.


Leave a comment

haiku for nearly

each day brings more green
apple tree buds grow fatter
the bear is nearby

_____________________________
Day 12. each day brings us closer to an explosion of green. there are five bears up on the mountain flanks behind Bear Farm. they tend to visit this time of year.


Leave a comment

Love Your Darlings

A brilliant piece on the creative voice by my friend, and fellow Creative Group at Bedlam Farm member, Andy Sigler. A wonderful read that will have you jumping up and down whispering “yes!”

Newton's Take

Years ago I was talking to a writer friend about her craft. She wrote professionally and reflected that in her profession, you often have to “kill your darlings.” This refers to the sad reality (at least for the one doing the writing) that very often, your most dear and (at least to you) poignant words can end up on the floor of the editor. Sometimes you are your own editor, sometimes there’s someone paid to edit your work for you. When you do the cutting, there’s a momentary sense of loss that’s followed by the assurance of knowing that shorter is very often better. When someone else brings down the axe, it’s kind of like someone killing your dog.

I don’t say, of course, that it’s like someone killing their child. Nothing is like losing a child. I made the mistake once of comparing losing my dog to someone else…

View original post 808 more words