Winter Garden Saturday morning, silence broken only by the wren’s scolding trill. Cherry blossoms bloom no more. Ice stares down the last ray of hope. Trees shake off day old snow from barren limbs. Winter garden dry, brown, dead, but... Continue Reading →
Ritual Breakfast – cooking eggs. Sleepy eyed, an attack of the mundane yawns. Burnt toast! Where did the paper go? The cat looks up and meows. Misplaced glasses, jangling keys, same crossword puzzles everyday. Open the window to let the... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 