At the end of the second floor hall was a step (up) and door leading to the third floor Among the small spaces created by the eaves I could hide and feel snug except Just before Christmas when it was off limits Straight ahead the attic peak held a random assortment of boxes, suitcases, furniture…
Car packed slowly we pull away (from the curb?) Leaving Dog cats, kids sleepless nights final projects, exams sprinkled throughout the city all – left behind and wrapped in the sultry fragrance of an early Savannah morning Off the tree caught in my backward glance I break one bud to take with us Every five…
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 of storage comes one love seat two boxes of books three cardboard chests marked ‘fragile’. Five candles, found, can light windows. still needed – a little space for the Christmas tree. Reunited with love seat and a patch of sun Annie and Coco snuggle peacefully. Ah, the wisdom of cats! Merry Christmas!
After days (and nights) of constant activity I sink into your chair the bigness of your flannel robe softly folded around me Cat jumps into my lap and we surrender cocooned in the warm leather How long could I feign ignorance of your absence? Hurry home
Funny isn’t it how late afternoon is also early evening and is (just as surely) – night – depending on the time of year In the scrapbook…
This tree stands – lights and ribbons encircling – like a million other trees. (remember the popcorn and cranberry strings? Paper chains and brightly decorated cookies?) look! what a cacophony of ornaments! laughing like stars – they silently chart our course across a lifetime. oh cats, where has the time gone?
We drove home sated with gaiety, family, friends and food Beyond the traffic noise lay stifling heat and the silence that tolls the end of summer hundreds of miles rolled by town by city Out the window ‘Korean War Conflict’ hung from the license plate of a passing van I thought of the young couple…
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…
It’s not hard to leave in winter – when all the earth is sleeping. fallow. in winter we might just slip away But not now. (don’t ask) Everywhere kaleidoscopes of color set my senses swirling Littlejennywren’sexcitedchatter drives me to distraction! forcing me to open the door to where the sweet fragrance of spring intoxicates my…
‘In the city’ where music danced on the night lights we dashed store to store over snowbanks, between cars through crowds of people across the cobblestone streets trying to avoid puddles of slush – don’t slip! meet. regroup and divide. meet again outside under the Shepard clock closely guarding our Christmas secrets only the constant…
Words come framed, measured, controlled – ‘I have some bad news” how else is there to say it? Bad news is always bad I answer in kind (and it is never enough) how else is there to respond? and we reflect, philosophize (chase guilt?) we are adults Long ago December my father lay, dying of…