Life With Horace

poetry & essays

Tag Archives: poetry


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How is it?

How is it
on the mountain, friend,
your spirit free
to roam the peaks
while others only visit,
awed by your home?

Can you see
the wonders that
your children are,
carrying you forward,
best parts mostly,
through life’s flow?

Do you know
I miss you still,
regrets dimmed,
a mind’s eye memory
of boundless energy,
on the night we met?

Is that you
beside me in the woods,
silent escort through
the marshes, dogs in hand,
then safely home,
here for the asking?

Yes

_____________________________________
For Mike, whose birthday was today. the photo is of Mount Lafayette, where his ashes rest.


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letterfeather

another zooming bird
yawping canny xenophobic
dipping wings eager
voyager flying unfettered
gliding the heather
sky in random
joyous quoits kitelike
over lambent ponds
nimble marvel

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for Day 10 of NaPoWriMo 2015: an alphabetic poem using words starting with the 26 letters of the alphabet. instead of going straight through the letters start at the ends and meet in the middle by the finish.


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dialectic for dollars

cabaret’s repeated chant,
is this the root of all things bad?
if craving more, reptilian greed
is celebrated everywhere I turn,
then yes, I have to say it is.
when a day’s reward
for honest work
is not enough to live on
yes, I say!
when few of those
who have the lion’s share
will say I am enough,
I have enough,
and feel compelled to fill
their lives with excess that
the Romans would have loved,
oh yes, I shout.
when children wander
aimless in a wasteland
made of silicon and noise,
lacking book, or brush, or song,
no love of life or hope,
I can only weep, this is the harvest
of that root.

_____________________________
For Day 7 of NaPoWriMo, prompted for a poem about the dollar.


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one way aubade

daylight prompts a kiss,
waking up my foggy
heart and brain
to sunrise clarity of thought

and know an echo cannot
keep me, having heard
and felt full throated love
if only for a time

flypaper’s hold, that ersatz
grace, lacks true regard,
whereas the fearless know
that reins kept loose hold tight

now looking out toward the sun
and craving freedom’s light,
I wave and turn away from here,
whispering goodbye to night

_______________________________
For day 6 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt being for an Aubade, or lovers’ morning farewell.

Damselfly wings


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truth teller

halting steps along this path,
roughened slate set into
soft cocooning moss,
lead me out to healing sun,
air charged with anger fading fast,
dancing more with every stone,
why would my heart remain
when peace and light
live somewhere else
and it is time to
place the love we had
upon my sleeve
and let it go,
a badge to honor
early days and honest hopes,
frozen ponds in moonlight,
rich wetland life observed,
owls calling from our pines,
rock duets, slow dances,
sleeping in the curve
of loving arms,
voices raised in song,
poetry discovered.
some will remain,
those roots dug deep
that have become my own,
a life outdoors embraced.
mistrust and blame will not
be my companions,
though sadness and regret are
with me for a time,
I have no expectation that perfection
lies ahead, nor would it be
a welcome thing, but look for
an authentic life,
taken as it comes,
owning my reflection
without flinching,
clear eyed, eager (still),
open to creative joy,
grateful for rich moments
added to the flow
of every day

_______________________________
for day 4 of NaPoWriMo. the prompt was for a love poem sans cliches, and could be taken in any direction.


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sky shapes

the night’s first star
has always drawn my wish,
a bit of time connected
rite passed down to me,
hopes for others only
was the rule.
I learned of stars
eyes looking up
to summer brilliance
thrown across the sky
searching out the simple shape
of seated vanity, of bear,
or clutch of distant sisters.
now, when summer lushness
fades to cold black night,
my champion comes,
a hunter standing winter watch
the brightest stars his prize,
and knowing that he sees
and guards my far flung clan,
I have no need to wish
for more

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for day 2 (a day late) of NaPoWriMo 2015. The prompt was to write about the stars, no hardship there.


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Fool’s musings

Is it ever too late
to see what matters most
For light to lift my mood
To wish for joy
in spring’s touch
Sing without restraint
Twirl beneath white petals
drinking in their smell
See a brilliant feathered pink
across the morning sky
To know the pure love
of a child and smile
To feel a dog’s smooth head
beneath my hand and sigh
Not while I breathe
and can remember
to give thanks

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for day 1 of NaPoWriMo 2015, National Poetry Month.


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listen

with thoughts circling,
ever faster whorls
of stinging noise and fog,
there was a voice
that said
listen. just listen.
quiet certainty,
accepted, welcome
yet not begged for
unless there was
a whispered
help me
living, waiting
in a corner of my soul
unseen, forgotten.
now I can hear
the quiet note
that is my strength,
the rest all falls away,
unimportant once again.
aware of almost-tears
of thanks and joy
I listen.


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the other forest

my flower beds are throwing off
their compressed dimpled white,
and there are windy days
with teasing warmth
and vanguard migrant buzzards
chased by crows.
even as I gladly face the sun,
there are some things
to miss a little while
that left me breathless
in the cold, choked with joy
at seeing sudden beauty.
a first glance to the eastern ridge,
and brilliant blue first light
across a clear late winter sky,
blots of flemish clouds
that never come in summer,
scudding low and changing shape,
new snow like moonstone dust
lit by a full moon’s glow,
my other forest,
traceries of crystal frost
inside the windows on our porch,
mimicking the solid shapes
of tree and bush.
oh I am more than ready
for the squelch of mud,
and branches swelled with buds,
soft leaf and frond,
assaults of tender green,
the songs of
snow melt freshet streams.
it will not be a hardship
to accept all this,
no not at all.