For Shura Sylvia – +++++++ The oven, frosted over with burns, Which claimed you that quiet morning – I imagine that morning, rainy and damp, toys strewn about: trucks and cars never to return. And a doll who had experienced... Continue Reading →
Rescuer My husband tells me there’s a baby loon caught in the weeds. Wondering what creature he could be taking for a loon chick, in August, I slip down to the docks. A kingfisher thrashes in the shallows, and I... Continue Reading →
Waning The moon in phases grows and shrinks before our eyes, thus we remark in public forum: crops and tides and raging men in flannel robes will all be pulled toward the sky one day in twenty-nine. Likewise, the hearts... Continue Reading →
Dancing on the Face of the Moon Just this side of midnight, I stepped outside - an attempt to snag the tail of a summer breeze. Slowly, a shadow crept over me. Night turned darker than blackness itself and I... Continue Reading →
Purple Thistle A favorite of bumblebees but hell on earth for her husband, it had a humbleness she loved and she stroked the tassel’s velvet wherever he figured clods or weeds. He knew only the bite of its bristle, uprooting... Continue Reading →
Gardening with JD Life is like a rose, he says, unfurling and unpredictable, a transformation. Even death comes beautifully, dried petals and cinnamon in an antique crystal bowl. That’s enough, I say, you’ve gone too far this time, but he’s... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 