6/30

The cure for all things, according
To Isak Dinesan, is salt water: sweat, tears,
Or the sea. 

Today was sweat, eight hours of washing, 
Taping and painting. Up and down ladders,
It looks good. 

I am tired and in a better mood, even before
A friend called asking for me and the painter
Will come tomorrow. 

The summer solstice sun is setting but a few
Degrees south this evening. The distance of
A tree trunk.

6/29

A draggy day from an upset belly, before
My friend packs her things, we sit awhile
Enjoying the breeze

The cooler temps appreciated as we 
Relax and talk. It is so rare to take the time
To just sit.

6/28

A busy day and evening, more social 
Than ever we would do, or even usually 
I do now.

6/27

A day with friends from noon to midnight,
Chatting, cooking, eating, going out and
Meeting more friends,

An evening of talking and listening
To music, good to hear, to dance, then
Home to sleep.

6/26

Days past solstice the sunset comes late;
I do love long evenings settling into dusk, 
Gift of light. 

The dogs romp through the labyrinth, the sun 
lowers and I am engulfed by the humid air
Under hazed skies. 

Rain is needed, more than what fell yesterday,
But now all is still and verdant,
Quiet and close. 

6/25

I find hardest not having anyone who cares. 
A simple fact that indeed makes me blue. 
For I do

Not make friends easily. A panacea proscribed 
For sadness is do something, preferably requiring 
Handwork and dirt. 

So, cut acres of grass, fixed the bandsaw, made 
Cuts for several palettes. Already nice in hand,
Already becoming beautiful. 

6/24

Alone is not necessarily lonely, but it is
Alone, is, still just alone. And with that alone-ness
Comes disquiet, questions

Questions still, how to navigate this landscape,
Alone, without you here. How, with you near only
In my heart,

Not always enough, alone I flail through time
Wrapped in despair, depressed past hope, alone, doing,
Heart hurt, still.

6/23

Time taken to clean the workshop,  well spent.
Time given at the carving bench, all the
Tools in order

Time sitting where you did, doors open,
Breeze off the river wafting through,
Hear corn rustling,

Time for pleasant sounds,  all that surrounds, 
Time with your tools,  feel wood under hand change
As am I.

6/22

The corn is nigh on six feet tall along the mile 
Long fields to and behind the house. This year, I will 
be hemmed in

Held closed by this crop. This year I can bear that. 
A few years since the last the corn grew,
Cloaking, Guarding sentinels. 

This year I can tolerate if no longer embrace how
The corn limits views. Only this year do I feel strength
To do so.

6/21

Summer solstice, I went to hear our neighbor sing
Her voice is beautiful , still. Wish only her backup
Had been quieter 

Still it was good to sit with friends in the cool 
Pine grove under gray skies listening to
Gospel blues grass. 

Of course you sat with me front and center 
In my mind and heart for of course you did 
Love this music. 

6/20

Where to go, where to stay where, where, where?
Wherever if I can not connect, where is only part 
Of the equation

6/19

Some days I feel the only course open to me
Is to carefully pare whatever life I have down to
the barest level

6/18

Could be here, I doubt it. This day 
I went to a drawing session. I enjoy these,
But I am

Not a really a part of this group, only a 
Subsidiary, welcomed but not really
a part of.

Not really a part of....that is the part that 
Is now my life. Not really a part of.....where
Is my part.

6/17

Housekeeping, I do this in fits and starts.
I do this thinking of the beautiful places 
We have lived 

And now this last? Mine to husband, even, 
Perhaps beyond what is needed. It is what 
I can do. 

What I seem not able to do, is choose 
For myself a place good for me. Could be  
Here, I doubt it,

6/16

Hot today, and as parts of the house get painted
I work inside, comfortably, comfortable in this house, that
Was our home.

A good evening with friends celebrating a birthday,
I am included, well included,  and yet I am aware I am
Not really family.

Not family, no longer, mine was a small family and
Is no longer. Perhaps it is time to find family I can again
Live near by.

6/15

Days days days alone that is what I have
In front of me now, days days days alone, that 
Now is me.

6/14

All those years ago, learning to live with you, 
Enfold our lives together was easy
Where that remains 

Is ensconced in my soul. All these years, 
Learning to live no longer having you 
Right by me, 

Has been hard. However I hold your love 
Close , hold the heart of you, what remains 
Is me alone.

6/13

Another rainy day spent clearing things in the house
Then things elsewhere.. Which is harder? Depends on
Which evokes sorrow.

6/12

Thunderstorms that devil my Arlo dog, but allow me
To peruse the house, yet again, and decide, glide
Within this home

And slide more unwanted away.  Unwanted now is 
Detritus even we rarely needed and I for sure
No longer do.

What do I need now. You. But you are not here. 
What do I need now? A sense of place, a home
Of my own.

6/11

Listening to friends’ blues radio show, 
Listening and painting clouds storming 
Above the marshes, 

Painting is what I do now, painting. 
And sometimes it does carry me 
All the way 

To okay. When it doesn’t? It is 
My old troubles deviling my 
Soul into corners.

6/10

That sense of place, that idea I have carried these days,
That sense of place I have no longer yet that sense of place
Need to find

Need to find where I need going and where I belong, 
Where I want to be. Where is that? A place where again
I feel home.

6/9

Sense of place, you were mine as I was yours, and
That was then, however good, this is now and I do
Not have that.

I have only me, alone with the memory of your
Love to support where I am, am going now
On my own.

On my own, a possibility I had never the chance
To consider what I do on my own, what to do
On my own.

6/8

Met with a friend so she could get her dog back,
I’ll not see her again until sometime next month.
Life goes on,

Finally can face that where I go now
Is up to me only. Yet I feel bewildered atop
A precipice of choice,

With my sense of place was thrown so  a-kilter, 
Sense of connection diminished, what I want 
Still not clear.

6/7

Here’s the thing, while I am learning to live alone,
And even finding it is okay, when it isn’t?

What I miss

Is you.  
Yes, slowly am I learning to live beyond my 
Time with you.

So now, however lost I feel, slowly am learning 
Wherever I go, know in heart,and soul, will I
Always hold you.

6/6

It does seem that I am not as enamored of 
Filling days with being elsewhere, of just
Being too busy.

I believe ones path in life loops and spirals,
Changes terrain both sweetly and not, but closed 
Into a circle?

I think not. At least I hope not, seems limiting and
Lately I fear that fate, while looking for strength to
Bear against that.

6/5

Some days time fills in well and some days
I am too filled with excess time and 
Feeling stretched thin.

Some this day is being tired from a scared
Dog and thunder and no sleep and 
Feeling stretched thin

Some is from the expanse of time “since”
From being alone and without you and 
Feeling stretched thin.

6/4

After a day of tainted by my own weakness,
Some time with friends and then, finally
Some time painting.

6/3

A see ya in the morning, a hello later
Friends come by, stay and go. I am glad but
They aren’t you.

I hear so often of studies which declaim 
how bad being alone is, shortens one’s life.
Pah! I believe,

I believe, loosing years not be so bad, 
Bad is not being able to live 
What’s left well.

6/2

A day with rest before prepping dinner 
For friends: clams and shrimp, bright greens 
In a salad,

Fresh asparagus wrapped in bacon, 
A special cake without a birthday near by 
To celebrate, so:

Thank you, my brother, I wish for you
A good day from this into all the nexts.
Thank-you for caring.

6/1

A friend, a guest, enjoys this house and
While working the gardens here speaks of stories,
Of the need 

We all have to tell our stories. How we all do.
Yesterday I rode with friends, dined with friends,
Swapped some stories 

And made a few more. We all need moments good
Enough to morph into stories, to be carried in mind,
Spoken through heart.