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 sustain itself?
Cradling you in my hands
you seem like an earthly angel
Some people are like that.
‘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…
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…
Sticky notes that framed my computer fill the waste basket – one by one – like fall’s last leaves dropping from trees (the business year is winding down) Out back little jenny-wren has taken up residence under the patio table, darting for cover when we open the door well sited near the feeder, yet nearly…
Playfully she folded her hands around his proposing marriage (though he was almost a generation removed) then just as quickly distanced herself from the thought tossing a little laugh over her shoulder This wisp of a child turned her back early on convention – instead held court with small wooden hearts special stones, crystal rocks…
Door closed Maisie bounded from behind the sofa fresh with the scent of winter we measure the days and hours in Maisie time Locked in the moment he shrugged off a scraped and bloodied face – oblique commentary on a parallel universe Mud and grass stains are part of the game – then bundled to…
1 June Journey back home it all began in California. before we left. Hope Remember when the world was not big enough and somedays were only whispered musings on a summer evening? what made this place any different from a hundred other places? Feelings of anticipation and uncertainty we are finally going home. a little…