once home directly to the woods
downhill into the shadowed green
ecstatic dogs all tails and lopes
they move from spot to spot
datamining smells and sounds
and leave their marks
feet silent on the needle drop
my harmony almost restored
ankles softly kissed by ferns
_______________________________
a shortling to celebrate the gift of having woods to lift the day off my shoulders.
there is movement
in the daily flow of green
to full on spring
as bud fists loosen grips
or fern nubs thrust up clumpy heads
and hillsides morph to verdigris
reminding me of childhood nights
spent time-stretched
jumping tick to tock
wrapped in wild impatient
longing for the morning
and its gifts to come
in truth the journey
through that wait
or days lived blossomless
are weighted to the same degree
because this moment’s beauty is
the only certainty we have
_______________________________
a shortling for 5/5. spring has been excruciatingly slow this year for us. yet even as we creep along, just knowing the apple tree will blossom, or the lilacs bloom, is such a gift.
my woods are hung
with lamp lit moonlight
shallow beaver wash
turned into opal pools
picked out by
beams that launched
diffused through
vapor rings we know
are ice but touch
us softly
__________________________
Day 22. We have just had a full moon, fitting for the week of Earth Day.
coming up the hill
toward my kitchen door
on greening grass
almost tintless
in the growing dark
I chase my shadow
in moonlight
just strong enough
to make me glad
it is not chasing me
___________________________
Day 19. A shortling about coming home in fading light and a risen moon.
heart (hart) n.
chambered, steady
quiet presence
headwaters
of love’s river
laced with
endearment
and courage
lost sometimes
mended often
freely given
ready always
for encounters
with joy
my soul lives there
_________________________________
Day 17. A little behind, but no matter. A definition poem.
so it began
another opening salvo
written grapeshot
sibling letters
masking fury longhand
weighted by a lifetime’s
alkaline asides
presupposing mal intent
in every word
an older generation
hamstrung by
paper clad
civility
________________________________
Day 16 of NaPoWriMo, where the prompt was an almanac poem, one of the items being a scrap of a letter. clearing out my family’s place in Rhode Island (emptying a place filling my soul) we found hundred of letters, one of which began “molly, formerly dear molly”. while I found this amusing, clearly the writer, and one supposes the recipient, did not.
pairs, twos
doubles, couples
subject defined
lifelong, sometimes
short-lived, one-offs
time refined
married, partners
exes, ohs
hearts aligned
__________________________
Day 15. The prompt was the notion of doubles.
to sing with my friends
brings joy to those
who hear us
but shoulder to shoulder
we who give voice
have earned
the greater gift
we stand inside
the living body of music
connected by
sublime resonance
_____________________________
Day 9. A shortling about the gift of singing in a group. Day 9. The words wanted my attention, but not for very long!
this morning life rose earlier
by minutes that felt wider
accordioning out the day,
winter’s pearl blue light
cut by blades of gold
cast from the ridge
revealed the snow well broken in,
squirrel byways clearly marked
seed leavings on white crests,
starter crystal stalactites
lipped from the roof,
evidence of romping dogs
mouse tracks
and my own red squirrel visitor
in a quiet moment
_____________________________________
immediate snow is always special, but some time out from its fall the evidence of life outside the house reveals itself.
I see you there
perching lightly on
a distant dancing star
watching day approach
even with the turn
toward the sun
the dome of night
will hold your shine
for you were legend
in your love of life
and light the hearts
of watchers here below
_______________________________
for Susan.
light lies flat and gray behind my pines
no emerging blue with morning star
nor sailing clouds with rosy blotted core
a morning to rejoice because it’s mine
and I am able to give voice
______________________________________________
a shortling gift from an early morning, with gratitude for another day.
walking from
machine cooled dullness
into hot sunlight,
mid July high noon
even if I could
there is no avoiding
this cloak of
fecund summer air
settling on my skin,
the scald of
gentle lover’s fingers
prompt me to accept
their gift, and dance
in the heat of the day
Thoughts on and off the trail of Life.
This Blog is about discovering the magic of forests in every aspect of life from a small plant in a metropolis to the forests themselves
another day in the joy of making connection
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a journey with spirit
- A Quarry House Blog
Poetry. Photography. Thoughts
life's wHeirdness and wonder
A great WordPress.com site
One Southern Girl's Life in Vermont
Finding My Voice
poetry & essays
Exploring Nature in New Hampshire
I am the proudest.
Quilts, potholders and handbags out of recycled clothes and fabric
By Diane Fiore
Life on the farm...life in general.
Making beautiful marks on my world
Life and death and sleeping on the ground
