Je vois une femme
mais, je ne peut pas voir
ce qu’elle voit
(sitting alone in the garden)
I cannot
know what she feels
or is thinking
Have her thoughts been
carried up into le ciel
by a passing coccinelle, or
is she planted
firmly on the ground
dans sa chaise, lost
In the pleasure of the moment
Who knows?
Eden sacred ancient sanctuary vines climb through mist to the blue light and explode into exotic summer Beneath the earth shines with winter frost Peace
Out on the prairie and down east (along the coast) there are wild ponies, occasionally one sees a sign – DO NOT FEED I took a risk, guided my car roadside, and searched remnants of lunch for the saved afternoon snack Much larger than I imagined I wondered, would he charge, bolt, or bite –…
Who made you king? Do you terrorize the neighborhood in retaliation for your abandonment? Twenty pounds of arrogance straining to exit the storm drain gangster cat Your slovenly swagger down the street means nothing to me Watch out Some day I might tame you.
Earth so dry Beginning to relinquish hold on a landscape slowly losing the struggle to dig deep enough for life sustaining moisture – sprinklers small comfort. Into each heated night, cicadas loose a relentless, high-pitched plea – no relief and dawn arrives – gray as the day before. And yet – yet the strawberry pot…
Against the antique oak rocker in the alcove leans a needlepoint begun decades ago (18th century American primitive re-created in my hand and style with woolen yarns and carefully selected stitches) Cart roads lead from the ‘big’ house, past out buildings and wild vines heavy with grapes (Norton?) – down at the river, a sailing…
Stepping across the threshold leaving one reality, embracing another – if only for a few moments Inside a fan mutely, slowly bathes the room in a slight breeze long, slender blades dip (ever so slightly) as if to caress my husband resting in the bed below were it not for the four posters standing sentry…