Tuesday, March 21, 2017

3/21

Tugboat slips upriver, a whirring glide
Under skies blushing into nightside.
Fleeting time to last,
Too quickly gone past,
Like me, rushing to keep with the tide

Monday, March 20, 2017

3/20

Banners sky sweep shades of Prussian blues
Clouds softly stretched 'gainst turquoise hues
On indigo edges
Songs from sedges
Waterfowl call evening adieu

Thursday, March 9, 2017

3/9

What soap is to the body,  
my mother in law would say,
tears are to the soul.
For a long time I have felt that way.

My mother in law would say,
put on a believable façade.
For a long time I have felt that way,
Present the appropriate nod.

Put on a believable façade,
Guess I've known.
Present the appropriate nod,
the quiet heart alone.

Guess I’ve known,
Tears are to the soul,
the quiet heart alone,
what soap is to the body.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

3/8

Ah, the vagaries of placement.
Of being not quite in the correct place,
Hovering again behind

By just a bit too much, missing again, 
Out of contention, no chance at the cup.
Left ever pushing

Against a kudzu karma of tedium, aware
My latitudes aren’t right, but not quite 
Accepting my longitudes.  

Ah the vacillations of situation.
When one knows the correct place but
Can’t get there,

As there is just out of reach.
No ribbon, no ring, no laurel leaf,
Falling again untangling,

Dangling

Monday, March 6, 2017

3/6

I am now used to waitresses 
not knowing where to park the odd person. 
Seven? Yes, I am the odd number, 
I am the odd five, odd three, odd one. 

Not knowing where to park the odd person, 
can’t she just sit at the bar by herself? 
I am the odd five, odd three, odd one.
What to do, she still doesn’t fit.

Can’t she just sit at the bar by herself?
I am thankful friends include me, 
What to do, she still doesn’t fit,
as I continue to figure life out.

I am thankful friends include me, 
seven? Yes, I am the odd number. 
As I continue to figure life out,
I am getting used to waitresses. 


Wednesday, March 1, 2017

3/1

Grief, will you come talk to me? 
I could talk to you, I could say, 
You are getting too comfortable in my life,  
I don't want you always in my day.

I could talk to you, I could say, 
Quit ruling my life,
I don't want you always in my day.
Not front and center, not constantly here.

Quit ruling my life. 
Talk to me, I am listening. 
Not front and center, not constantly here.
Change is so frightening.

Talk to me, I am listening.
You are getting too comfortable in my life,
change is so frightening. 
Grief, will you come talk to me? 


Saturday, February 18, 2017

2/18

a day of mermaids wringing their hair,
sheets of water falling everywhere  
muddy poodles rollicking and frolicking, 
soaking wet, exuberance to spare.

Thursday, February 16, 2017

2/16

quiet fogs, call them shadow dreaming, 
visions falling into voids, leaving
time waxing through beauty coupled with rue.  
thousand essential moments, grieving

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

2/14

sleep, crisply cool sheets, cats snuggled, too  
dream, aways evolving, deja vu
wake, a pearly gray softly raining day
remember, once you warmed me, adieu

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

1/31



A glimpse
Out the window,
Sliver of a gift,
Only five minutes.

Out the window,
White, black charcoal,
Only five minutes,
On gray toned paper.

White, black charcoal,
Dusty fingers moving
On gray toned paper,
A sweet, silvered moon.

Dusty fingers moving,
Sliver of a gift.
A sweet, silvered moon, 
A glimpse.

Friday, January 6, 2017

1/6/17

For seven years I have slept without you
With  the memory of you
By my side.

And here on this night I sleep
without our dogs, With now only the
memory of them

They two are gone and I am empty,
Memory of all lost, you, them, dear
In my heart.


Saturday, December 31, 2016

12/31

I breath believe the colors of a  
day stay in the heart to impart 
fair care to those near, dear. 

Saturday, December 24, 2016

12/24

No choice, only to hold this dear soul,
Arlo ever happy to see me,
On to you, Dear.

I am just unbelievably undone.

Monday, December 12, 2016

12/12

My Cooper is gone.
As unexpected as were you, Dear.
Gray, cold, beach.

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

11/8

I come to the evening 
Looking for solace in watching 
The sun set in the blaze 
Of skies darkening. 

Looking for solace in watching
The ensuing drama of color
Of skies darkening,
An attempt to keep life’s order. 

The ensuing drama of color,
Allowing beauty to convey,
An attempt to keep life’s order. 
But for part of each day

Allowing beauty to convey,
The sun set in the blaze. 
But for part of each day
I come to the evening.