12/31

Lobster again, simply boiled with butter, family,
A dear friend, prosecco to toast, finally, her success,
The new year.

12/29

A magic evening watching a friend’s dream evolve 
In front of us, her words spoken on the venerable
Old P’town stage.

And this swirl of sweetness carried us blind 
Through snow, tough driving, lifted by the success of 
This dear friend.

12/25

These days spent with family, among the many, for whom 
Life is just normal, among the few, widowed but here,
Grateful for all.

12/18

Listening to a message left by a friend, letting me know of two

Who are in hospital but doing well. As were you this same day 

three years ago.

12/16

In the serene lobby of a small Boston hotel, meet friends
For dinner, for music, for the incomparable Leonard Cohen.
Seated on high

In his tower of song, enveloped in his words and voice and sound,
An honored evening for gratitude and thankfulness. We are
Seated on high.

12/14

Up early with the car loaded, the dogs in the back, a good friend
Riding shotgun we head north, comfortable, chatting, enjoying the
Sense of adventure.

12/11

These days coming back here is an exercise in being there.
Being there with the dogs and the time my own,
Just being there.

12/10

Drive home from helping a friend take her show down. Am tired.
And will be turning around to return in a few days. This season days
Are too short. 

12/7

Spent the morning with another, who was looking
For other than me. Went...why? Curious. But little else
Nice enough person

Spent the afternoon neatening my house, better use,
To be on my own. My own, mine, I willingly learn
To own alone.

To allow the time past is a breath of heartbreak lengthened 
Through hurt to hallowed moments serene, to walk the field paths
Under the sunset.

12/6

The dogs spend the day a their spa, beauty and 
Good smells will be theirs as I miss then underfoot
Dinner with Faith

12/5

Met a friend, we are in a new gallery
Another place to show my work
Hope it’s good

12/4

These last few days I have ridden with friends, each day
A different horse, good to be with others a few hours
In each day

It seems i have not been alone here more than a few days yet,
Though that isn’t true, I feel I’m moving on shifty sand, still trying
to find stability

Find contentment within these walls and within myself
Find taking time to do this good, and find time to ride
Josh, Bourbon, Blue.

11/30

Not so a bad way to end the month, with several paintings 
Done that I like. Not a bad way, but not enough, because missing
You remains deep.

11/27

As usual, whenever I get here, first feel at odds,
As it seems the compass guiding me wavers as I try
Plotting a path.

11/26

A quick trip to our friend and his girl,
A good evening spent with them before
The drive home.

11/23

This day went to look at two houses and came away 
disappointed as they neither lived up to their billings
or my wishes.

11/22

My mother and I spent the previous day slowly prepping,
A task that allows this morning also to be easy as guests
trickle in early

Precious were the years she would come and join us
Precious this year, wary gratitude, as time has a way of pulling
us up short.

11/20

Leave out early to drive north.
The drive is uneventful, good.
The dogs sleep

I drive and eyes on the road, my mind there 
On the one in front and also on the road yet
To be taken.

But somedays I feel I can not look down that road
For any great distance as it still remains clouded, where
I wish clarity.

11/19

Start this week spending a few days at the beach.
At a friend's house, three of us meet to paint and talk.
The dogs play.

Best is the company shared, knowing others are near.
Glad for the quiet and good talk, beach walks, feel the need
For slowed time.

11/16

Company, a favorite cousin and his friend are here.
They have wended their way south and back, looking
For the blues.

An evening listening to her play guitar
And get interviewed on the radio.
Tired, slept well.

11/13

Met with an expert on estate planning,
Met to plan for this time ahead, met without you.
Met for me.

11/10

This week has been consumed with yard work.
Your chainsaw, I give to another as I will
Never use it.

I will find, eventually, one more useful for me.
For now, a new sawsall, leaf blower, rake
help me tidy.

And all solidifies in my mind, I can do this alone,
I can, alone, even find some peace in that but not
In my heart.

11/7

Thankful for the rain, slow, steady rain keeping
The day damp and gray and I sleep and rest
With no regrets.

11/6

Dinner prepared for friends, my cousin's and mine, all
Connected by the blues, the visit is good. Wish
I wasn't sick.

11/5

Drive home with all the mutts, my two and the poodle.
Find other than downed trees, Sandy made only a mess.
My cats miss me.

11/4

Paint with a friend while at her show, then hurry to
A whiskey tasting. A frivolous, fun evening; remembering,
thinking, missing you.

11/2

Another friday drawing and painting and this day
Am pleased with some of the work done here
A good day.

11/1

Medium of artwork is so important, a pastel is not an oil.

A play is not a movie. The Kennedy Center hosts 

War Horse, magnificent.

10/31

My neighbors are an island but fine, me too.

Properties, more shopworn but good. I stay put.

Bay bridge closed.

My friend prepares for halloween, candy

For treaters, costume for grand-daughter

I join in.

10/30

I stay here and listen, wondering, is the house ok.

If it isn’t there is not much I can do here...or there.

So be it.

10/28

Rain all day, dinner with friends, 

Staying with company

Waiting the storm

10/27

The show comes down today and I will not go home,

Will stay in town with friends and wait to see how hard

This storm hits

10/26

Packed for the weekend, dogs in tow.

Classes all day, some good drawing, not painting,

Worry about Sandy.

Worry about staying to work the gallery then

Worry about taking the show down and getting

Over the bridge

Before the storm hits, worry about being alone

At the end of a long dirt road, knowing there is little

I can do.

10/23

The winter wheat is in, greening fields 

To peridot and through the cloud fluffed skies of

Azure peaches rose

In them Lift the first swirling murmurations 

Of small migratory birds lifting on whirring

Wings over me

Sunset 6:21

10/20

A friend’s birthday, an anniversary sooner left alone.

Now a celebration here where we lived and loved

And were happy

A day spent sitting sidewise to the merriment. fine.

Listening to the cheery voices and knowing the wonder

that was happening.

May they be ever happy, as we were, for longer.

May they always be there for each other.

May they love.

10/18

Sometimes I think you would just shake your head,

WTF am I doing. The tent in the arena is not an indoor. 

A wedding here?

10/16

Timing off, left our dogs when I shouldn’t and now,

Now, now one is in a clinic far from home being treated.

Now’s not easy.

10/15

In a fine old home now a museum I help my friend 

Hang her show and talk hunting with the curator.

I miss hounds

10/12

Another opening for a sweet small show nearby. 

Glad to be with friends who sell at least a little. 

Me? no. 

10/11

The sun has set leaving a quiet sky banded 

Azure rose purple. Leaves are falling settling 

Backgrounds dusty grays.

It is coming on time for flights of geese

To hover, to squabble over choice rests,

Ever chattering together. 

Farm machinery hum distantly, birds chirp

Beginning to flock in swirls murmurations, as

I miss you. 

10/10

What do I know? Not much. Know I am tired,

Feel overwhelmed often, tired of doing it alone

without my partner.

Yet can't say would welcome another partner. 

There is still so much being one requires, more?

Too much work. 

Who knows? Not I. Meanwhile slowly learn

The north star keeps steady not from others but from in itself.

Miss my partner

10/7

How good to have friends come while I work the gallery.

How good painting Joe’s beautiful vegetables, others enjoyed

Seeing, how nice.

10/5

Last weekend our friends and I placed our show in the gallery

This evening was the opening. A fair crowd came.

Sales were made.

But I felt the presence you were, welcoming and offering to all

Libation and good words. I miss you saving Karen a beer.

I missed you.

10/4

Twenty five years ago we were wed. 
Expected to wake this day, together, in a special place, 
Arms wrapped round. 

Interesting that having been slapped hard by it, 
There is not now such fear of death, nor do I court it.
Life is special.

Perhaps, that is the special of this unimaginable
Anniversary for which the only silver given is
In my hair.

9/26

Pink sky this evening with an ember sun,
Corn is down and fields replanted 
In winter wheat. 

Have spent the last few days framing,
Packing, doing last minute things to two years 
worth of paintings. 

The car is full, in two days will be off, again,
This time to fill the front galleries
with my work.

9/24

In this is the hour of rockwell's light
Slanting golden across the tree tops,
There I look

Past the colors deepening into perfect,
Feeling the hint of chill that echoes ever
The soul's sadness.

No longer overwhelming, only a constant 
Tinge of sorrow, deeply rooted, haunting as
The cry of geese. 

9/23

WWT, because need time to wonder wtf happened.
To wonder what ever is next, wonder will that happen,
And wonder how?

To wonder who ever will believe in me, wonder on beauty, 
Wonder on good and colors and where to go. Still in
Widow Wondering Time

9/22

I sit your bench as the sun slips down, red gold
Perfectly framed by my tree, brilliant hues
For beautiful memory. 

9/21

Went to these classes today in a quieter mood,
Expecting to stretch, for sure but in a simpler way
Pleased with work.

9/17

Crisp the evening air while I walk the maze
As the sun settled and I enjoyed the colors, thinking:
Miss you more.

9/14

A week of learning new painting skills to use when back
In my own studio. A week on an island edge, a place totally
New and different.

I have been moving and doing a lot and do realize, all
Has been turning to seek what is now my life alone to hold 
New and different.

9/8

Slipping past another time-zone to arrive 
at the edge of an inland sea to paint, to be with others, 
to learn skills

9/7

In this life do I look now for small pleasures unexpected.
Un-denied, now with praise for the goodness of friends, of
Tasks done well.

9/5

Even I, who has been sure to ever be doing,
Even I wonder how to keep this pace going,
Even I tire.

9/4

A lovely tuesday afternoon spent sitting on the deck
By the river,, enjoying lunch with a friend. She and I
Talk and care.

8/28

After all this travel, glad for the friends, the family 
(sometimes are the same) glad for the music, glad to 
see Gorey's home. 

Appreciate getting a reminder that I failed. That reminds 
why I need live alone. A life alone is okay. Death...it came sooner 
than I expected.

8/27

Returned here to sit again your bench as the day ends 
With dogs exuberant in freedom, a glass of wine and 
my own thoughts. 

My own thoughts, this year I did welcome the shelter of tall corn. 
The last two did so need to see distance. Come back to rain
and corn cut. 


Ah to see across vast, flat fields 
and be here: at home, a home
with mixed emotions 

8/26

1700+ miles I've travelled these last ten days. What have I learned?
Hmmm first off and come last: a reminder how I still often let 
my fear rule.

Had I an idiot's breath of sense perhaps 
my dear would be here yet. Good to be reminded 
Of my failure. 

Yet before coming here, I did enjoy the company of friends, 
Of family. Listened to the creative sound of others, the 
beauty they gave. 

8/23

Sitting with these women, almost all widowed, almost all living on.
Know their choices are good but I sit, still wondering what the hell 
I will do?

8/22

In an evening slightly warm by a Rhode Island inlet,
With my new widowed aunt, we eat seafood watching the
Block Island ferry.

My mother, a seasoned widow, enjoys the food, the space.
Three widows and a dear coz, all at different places, learning
Living with out.

8/19

To go, to hear a wondrous voice singing just 
A few feet away, to go with dear people is to
Go into contentment.

8/18

With friends, drive to Newport and watch beauitful
Horses and coaches drive by. Past coming forward.
Past I know.

8/17

I so enjoy traveling with a friend, this afternoon
She kept company with me and shared a beer with
You and me. 

We travelled on with thoughts shared, talking and
I followed to share her evening of music and memory
Of sharing time.

8/16

My friend has her birthday, we often shared the celebration
with good food and good words. Today I remember her
Today I rest.

8/15

Again, packed, dogs in the back
Car checked and fueled
I’m off, again

8/14

Continued arranging for the show, it is good to be ready.
Can change paintings as wanted. A good evening eating
out with friends.

8/13

Cleaned and straightened and mowed, prefer to come home 
to a neat house. Better, sorted and framed for my upcoming show
I’m doing good.

8/12

Spent the morning feeling penned, hemmed into a corner,
Restlessly moving, prowling this house that still feels larger
Than I like

Spent the afternoon wrapped in my own uneasy lone-ness
Finally paint and work a panel into night to a good place and
A good result

8/10

Laid to rest this day a woman beautiful
And well-loved in her day, however long that
Day is past...

Gone beyond the joys of a life expected
Into one that so bewilders, sometimes beyond
Scope of reason.

I paint on, just another with her own future fears
Of life lived without my love, who was my family,
Of life lonelier.

8/9

On your bench I sit watching the go-go's frolicking
through the tall grasses as the skies darken, promise
Of rain arriving.

A friend calls to thank me for being there for his wife.
Asks “where you now”. “Sitting in my yard.”  “That’s a good
Place to be”.

8/8

Returning is a sack filled of mixed feelings
One part glad to be here, another part forever sad
From the missing.

Someone wrote: my dear died, not I. True,
I know but that  is not learned deep through in
A few days.

So returning here no longer feels like home,
As we had home. Yet, slowly, perhaps it changes to
Something I accept.

8/7

I meet this day learning more about my craft,
having the company of friends and knowing another's 
mother has died

I see this day and all days with the soft knowledge of you
Ever in my soul, thoughts, deeds, done with you, wrapped
warmly in mind

Greet this day, softly gleaming as the latest pearl on a string
Of good days with which to to adorn my soul, as this day, I am
another year older

8/6

To learn that others paint in a way I would like,
That I can open a book and  go to a museum, really
see their work.

What a delight, to hear and see another use these
Techniques, to go back to my palette
And try myself.

8/5

A friend, seeing my tense shoulders,
Knead them and once again I realize how little
Now I'm touched

8/4

The day spent painting and listening, looking
At my work, at others', learning more what I can do
with brush, paint

The evening spent with a new friend, widowed
Longer, and I listen and over good food, learn life
can be embraced

8/3

On summer evening I come out to watch
The acrobatics of dragonflies, colored brightly
Blues, reds, ebony

8/2

In a darkened theatre watched a marvel of ballet,
Of acting, singing swirling together, creating a
Small space wonder.

A magical morning spent with this
Production of the lion, the witch 
and the wardrobe,

Four of us watched with smiles, with tears,
Willing to allow the amazement
To course through.

8/1

Have left all in as good order as possible

Packed paints and bags, heading to a workshop 

Again to learn

7/31

Right now, where I am, there is just me.
Right now, have no wish to learn to
adapt to another

Adapting to life as it is now takes my all:
Learning the why, the how, the what all do I want,
Need from life.

7/30

Read: Follow the heart, trust intuition, allow
Uncertainty, accept, give love. Fear is
Based on ignorance.

Uncertainty I have, love I had. Out of these, where do I go.
On a level wish someone would say here be with me, all is well.
Would be foolishness.

7/29

Friends, a couple, often extend invitations to me and alone
Or with a few, I'm fine. With a crowd? Find still left missing
So hard, you.

7/26

In P'town I saw a painter whose words resonated with me
when she wrote her paintings were not about loneliness,
But about solitude.

I have to consider solitude more, not as an option
But as a destination, a place to embrace, feel comfortable in
And to own.

For now, while encompassing this, I miss the relationship
Of a good marriage. We were good our own. For now, I do
Still hurt often.

7/25

Three months ago was told its getting late, best
I be on my way. No idea where I'd go, just be gone.
A mother's wish.

Went, wondering why leaving family, hers, was better 
than staying. Left that night going back, no, no going back
My back gone. 

As was hers again and how we deal with our hurts does not
Always make sense. Sometimes hold only to what we are, slight 
Though it be.

7/22

The days and evenings in cherished company,
Not what I had, that sweet envelope with you, but,
It is good.

In my own way, am coming, still often kicking and screaming,
To cherish not only the sweet time with friends but also,
My own time.

7/21

Somewhere I read and marked
Quiet anticipation is the mainstay of a life lived alone.
Whatever that means.

Anticipation, yes I would say mine is quiet waiting
For the return of a group of friends with whom I'll
Paint and enjoy.

7/20

Saw two eagles this afternoon while riding
It has cooled, it is beautiful, the air soft,
The horse good.

It is the second week of this month
Of commitment and contemplation, of learning
How to stay.

Never thought it would include such as this
Equation of life as it is now. And here
There is good.

7/19

Okay, hung that large cloud painting where I can see it,
Live with it, consider it and even ask friends about it, hmmm,
Painting or living


Decide, keep going with it as it or change it up, for either
Probably not a bad idea to allow time and thought before
Making my decision.

7/18

Hard days, too hot, yet this day weeded and then
Spent hours reconfiguring the workshop,
Moving your things.


No. Now my things in that space which was yours
But now is mine to use, to appropriate as
I now need.


Then float in the pool, dress for dinner with friends,
Enjoy that now there are places to go here, come home alone.
It's all right.

7/17

Paint in the studio, talk with friends on the phone,
Allow the time given each conversation, all spanning
Space beyond moment.

7/16

Courts are cleared this week, leaving the days,
Hours  free for painting, chores, considering
My own concerns.


We do not live in stages except as broad swathes that
Touch where resemblances meet. We do live in and with
Choices made daily.


So as I consider choices in this time of unsure footing,
There is comfort hearing others have well trod similar path to
A good life.


That a person need not reinvent the wheel, indeed,
Can borrow, learn from others as needed, then
Pass it on.

7/15

Choices: good, bad, happy, sad, there are
Always choices. Chose to go to a new place
And survived it.

7/14

Into a day cooled by gray rain clouds
Rode tree-lined forest paths
Riding is good.

7/13

True, as time goes on, some friends fall off. Well,
Not totally true,  realize that as complete we felt, so do
They with themselves.


But resent the assumption any meeting should be me moving.
Oh yes, I have not concern of children, family job or such; or
Y'know, a spouse.


What seems true with some is if I am willing to travel
We'll see each other, otherwise not. If I don't, will ever I
See them again?

7/12

Another morning waiting to do my duty, not
Chosen; meet friends later for food, wine, sunshine
By the river.

7/11

It is hot and dry and I walk dogs, do yard-work, paint chairs
It is hot and after chores it is nice to slip into the pool, float
Under the sky


It is hot and nice to enter the coolness of the house
It is hot and eager to start a book I've found, reading
Into the night.

7/10

A morning spent completely surrounded by strangers
Each alone from the other, a juxtaposition of jurors waiting
To be chosen

7/6

Well, am reading again, sounds silly but
for so long there's been little pleasure in most
Movies and books


So in this time of contemplation, I start
Engrossed in a trilogy of who-dunnits, start by
Opening a book

7/5

This month shall be a time to think
To consider some, what I am doing, while
Sitting for jury


Stuck, unable to just get up and go
Suppose reflection of purpose, intention
Is worth deliberation

7/4

Holidays another day others enjoy
Left the pool filled with neighbors
I'm off elsewhere


To join a group of happy couples,
Better than unhappy, lol; still can be
Lonely in company

7/1

It has been ever so hot
Pool finally is ready, love others
Use it, too

6/30

Tears are given to help through those
Times when we no longer have the touch
The skin craves


And when the mind too craves assurances, meeting
Another who has walked a similar path can help
Assuage the soul

6/29

How warm the cement by the pool at 11 pm,
How hot the day into eve has been
How tired I am

6/28

This beach house is a gift of sweetest time
For the family that owns it, for friends, others 
Who use it


A place to practice living the moment, sweet 
Hours spent by the ocean, special time spent
With good people

6/27

Day spent doing small things about the house:
A wheelbarrow filled with clippings, wash done,
Simple everyday chores


Needed done before leaving, walk dogs, pack.
All done in the company of only me, am off to 
Friend and beach.

6/26

Every so often the skies clear crisp even in summer,
On this day I drive horse and cart, giving rifes to others,
A pleasant endeavor.

6/25

Driving home, again, rounding Philly
Listening to the radio, I hear a poet 
Reading her work:


To love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it 
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water 
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you again.


The Thing Is by Ellen Bass from her book Mules of Love

6/24

A not so early start, hit traffic,
Get easel for friend, drive more, meet
Joel for dinner.

6/23

Quick trip to see your sister
Who is looking good, full of life,
A delight to see.

6/21

Being here strengthens my awareness
Of how reclusive are the days 
Of a painter,


How one needs stretches of solitary
To practice, to perfect a craft, 
To create beauty.


Being here aware of the interruptions
That stall the day into broken bits
That steal time.

6/20

Seems my circle of friends grows smaller,
Not a happenstance on purpose,
Just what is.

6/18

Feels different, being in my mother's home.
I am easy here, really more
In the moment


My mother's moment as we talk and eat and
Just hang, a little gardening, a little housework,
More, time together

6/16

Day ends with beautiful light on this town perched
Along the dunes' end, all dappled from impressive clouds
Filtering the colors


Soft blues and roses and lemony tinged whites over
Peached sands and stone and grayed clapboards and docks,
waters of seagreens. 

6/14

It is a soft evening of light rain in P'town
A friend and I walk the familiar street winding through
This old town.

6/13

Driving...again...car packed, dogs in back,
I travel these same old roads...ten hours
However you measure.

6/11

Tired and moving about too much
And it is coming to mind, need to learn to stay still.
Just not today.


I have let a little thing pop up which
I let keep me from driving away this day.
That is fine.

6/10

A reply: You are very welcome at all times to whine. god knows
I have burdened you for years but pay back in this case is
A privilege saved


For good and honest friends and special bonded persons...
...you are passing to the next phase. always be true to yourself
in dark times


keep your special sense of humor and smarts.
don't take any wooden nickles. come see me.
bring the dogs

6/9

This house is these days worth half what we thought.
Will be going no where else quickly, sometimes life alone
need be ok


Then, well, am reminded of "what if's". Do know they
Do not exist and I do continue to assimilate and accept and
Look for joy.


Which does happen,  here and there. Wrote our friend, Thanks
For still caring to hear of my concerns as sometimes need
Someone besides myself.

6/7

In a shop, leafing through a book, read this quote:

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, 
Which I find myself constantly walking around 
In the daytime, and falling in at night. 
I miss you like hell.  

Edna St. Vincent Millay