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

6/6

I do come together these days filled with friends, 
Joined by art, not really to escape but to combine
Sweet time together.

6/3

I have been here before, this home by the creek,
Have settled in feeling comfortable and welcomed,
Time to savor.


Good space and land and food and most sweet
Company and the chance for more sweet time taken
To enjoy friends.

6/1

Car packed, dogs and painting equipment stowed,
Heading for the western shore to paint again
With friends