there is wind this morning,
backed by clear bright light,
just enough to move
the clouds I see
along the mountain arm.
they are solid burghers,
nothing flimsy, without
wings or tails in flight
yet they are bordered brilliantly,
as though the light is urging them
to weightlessness and speed,
to dance across the day
and play there with the sun
Tag Archives: poetry
the watcher
a lightning blaze of white
bisects his loving gaze
certain that the work he craves
lies with his people,
center of a now-rich world
in which he rests but lightly,
keeps watch often,
accepts kisses freely given
knows he has a place
forever.
______________________
my son’s dog, Helo, is a smart, loving border collie pit mix. for day 26 of NaPoWriMo 2014.
breathing
this new season
takes slow breaths
deep, silent, fresh
shaking off,
at times impatiently
the frozen crust
that claimed us all
for far too long
there is only gentleness
in her morning sighs today,
soft rain drops light
on flowers, birds and grass
and in my thoughts
startled, I see lilac buds
and they are green,
surely not since yesterday?
but, yes they are,
a swift and stealthy
gift from spring
and I bloom too
_______________________________
spring is mercurial as we all know. two steps forward… for Day 23 of NaPoWriMo.
riding earth
the dogs and I emerge
and head for freedom
tunneled through our woods,
a path of rich delights,
the sights and smells of life
lived on another scale,
returning home
renewed
today I feel connected
beyond my simple paradise,
as this glorious ship
sails through
the light and dark of space
as we live on her, taking
more than giving, plucking
fruits that may not
always grow again
and though some care,
the press of each day’s life
forces most to singular survival
not sure, or even caring
that the aggregated slag
of heedless use
will surely leach away
her life blood
and then ours
unless we love
our mother, steadfast
and protect her still rich bounty
simply for the joy
it brings us now
we will surely have denied
the birthright of
those loved ones
not yet born
______________________________
I have always loved the connectedness I feel on earth day. For Day 22 of NaPoWriMo 2014.
bright shadows
a snowless moon, if full
is no less bright
with patterned shadows
stretching over grass
and creeping up the outer walls,
those dark, strong arms
that cast their reach
like rod and line
out over streams,
a weightless overlay,
yet angular and hard.
my room is bright,
the window’s echo
stands in bold relief
against the wall,
angled down in stark perspective
as the moon begins to set.
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the moon, nearly full last night, cast amazing shadows both inside and outside, which stayed with me until I woke up this morning. Day 18 of NaPoWriMo 2014.
anticipation
despite the two-step
back and forth
of sun and snow,
there is new growth
emerging from
the silver painted trees
that greeted me
this morning
the promised gifts
of warmth and green
are on approach,
not yet in sight
though moving closer,
not quite frigate bird
in endless motion,
they are more subtle
in descent
spring’s silent feet
are passing by
the slowing pace of winter
in its wanton marathon,
not in a sprint,
but sidling steps
that lull the beast,
so grass will grow
for us to dance upon
and sing the notes
of rising life again
_____________________________________
will she won’t she? mother nature, that is.
Imagining dragonflies
Walking under mid-March flying clouds,
snow still layered tightly on this wetland road,
there are soft murmurs, water running under ice,
the flow from unseen melt is fleeing winter.
A half-warm sun and gusting wind of early spring
cannot erase the memory of heat and fecund life,
riches here to be regained at nature’s pace, not mine.
The dogs and I tramp to the dam and back,
and dream of summer pleasures looming large,
imagining the dragonflies.
__________________________________
On yesterday’s wetland walk my mind kept overlaying summer on what I was seeing.
Today, a while ago
A while ago I had a gift
and gave one too,
a lovely boy
whose soul and name
my heart reached out and held
before his birth.
And then he grew,
gifts seized with joy
and challenge met with grace,
in one quick moment,
my life’s blink
this swoosh, bright energy
old true soul, became a man
possessed of loving honesty.
Now two score on
a truth teller thinker
dreamer husband father
nephew cousin brother son,
above all friend,
his light shines bright
held always
in my soul’s arms
and in my heart.
__________________________________
for my son, on his 40th birthday
but it is
not my loss I thought
a friend’s friend gone
under snow
sent down the mountain
by pleasure seekers
without thought
of lives below
or dreadful consequence
this sudden gap
where once a friend
stood in the heart
is feathered now
with small things
precious bits
of cloth or lace
dug from the snow
song and image
remnants of a
rich creative spirit
its light now dimmed
but not to be
forgotten, no
all sensed and felt
by strangers like myself
who at a distance
mourn her leaving.
______________________________
the loss of a creative soul is universally felt, whether we realize it or not
smaller pleasures
a dropped verbena leaf
is rubbed to bring the scent
of summer’s idle moments.
my kitchen window
frames a silver hand
that holds an instant’s light.
the soft delighted snorts
of dogs in greeting
as the day begins.
and at the kitchen door
I sip from morning’s cup
grateful for another rising sun.
watchful
they are layered
by the door
waiting, dozing, ready
smooth and gleaming,
full and tufted,
both at rest
sensing movement
one eye opens,
cannot hold a teasing stare
then a sigh,
the head resettles
on its living pillow
____________________________
for Horrie and Aggie
tess
bright eyes watching
so much energy
open joy
loving creature
certain of the
care and patience
that surround her
born for running
and she does
leaping, bounding
through the trees
a blur of white
with red bandanna
sailing over
the high snow bank
at woods edge
unrestrained
but fast returning
to the simpler path
no hesitation
the voice of love
is calling
____________________
written during a visit to a friend in North Bennington, Vermont, where I finally got to meet her wonderful young Llewellin Setter, Tess.
Life With Horace 