On such
a May morning
thoughts of New England beckon
Open windows
shaded by large, old trees
sun
filtering through the leaves
cool, breezy, fresh
no overt fragrance
like Savannah further south
Too soon
June will bring us
to our senses
air conditioners will drone
blocking all feel and
sounds of the outdoors
Heat and humidity will
hang
in the air
as we hang
between north and south
The rains passed around midnight along with any remnants of fall Thirty degrees below normal this morning Sky so blue it hurts the eyes – and windy Outside the skylight several birds soared. No not birds. leaves – carried above the treetops tossing in the upper currents, while sun glanced off their shapes to complete…
December had barely finished spelling out its name, yet huge, wet snowflakes silently …
Unable to reconcile a relative of the onion growing among grape vines…
In winter the blackest of nights cloak the heavens exploding their brilliance Millions of unseen shards fall earthward through the atmosphere – the air so dense, it takes one’s breath away At first light gnarled and scattered waste of seasons past glisten for a moment under last night’s carpet of frost – Soon, all will…
The day’s hot breath lingered forcing fireflies out of the grass. Soundlessly they rose – rising blink-ing rising – pausing in the trees, slowly charting their way ever upward. Occasionally we’d catch one in an old jar, while grownups sat in lawn chairs and chatted. Mostly we just ran around small, thin arms o u…
Tiny bird inside his breast pocket you are like the young three-footed buck and squirrel laying in the rain with a broken hip Science cannot heal all should we have left you to die? Young buck once jumped with a grace man never could squirrel – laughed with a zest unmatched How does your heart…