I know I hear the silence more
and some times
catch myself
listening to cars approaching from
up the street
Sitting on the front steps at night
the stars are so beautiful, they
almost
make me cry
Some times
I can’t explain how it feels.
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…
Her worn collar long faded and stained used to be hot summer pink with lime-colored palm trees dancing ‘round Set against a pale yellow-white coat – she might as well have been wearing diamonds Later came the grass and mud, chocolate (swiped pastry) and a few garden remnants… over time each stain became an embedded…
We never wanted two cats and a dog the white picket fence and the station wagon The world waited just over the horizon Odd isn’t it how our fondest memories are of kids and dogs two old cats rule we no longer need yet have two station wagons all a part of creating a place…
I love the sense of freedom and quiet the sights sounds and smells that I experience on an early morning walk Rabbits silently lope from spot to spot in search of breakfast an old dog greets us from well within his castle gates Occasionally someone else is also up and walking usually (like me) with…
Strive to live each day in little moments Noting the joy of each and let them become as small steps leading you through the darkness If you can capture one another will surely follow Sometimes we have to tell ourselves to breathe until the normal rhythms of life take over again
You are too gracious and elegant to ask I know that but simply put, we are dog people for forty years and more yes, yes there was the occasional unwilling kitten dragged home That night – you were the slimmest of shadows weaving among us in the mist neighbors banded together at nightfall laughing with…