12/31 Thursday

Again lobster and champagne, a tradition
Followed now by myself and my mother.
Sometimes others come.

12/26

Dinner with a good friend at a local cafe
Good food, friendship, a chance to talk
Over certain topics

I needed mulling over, needed a good ear
And needed to become aware, what
I now need.

For so long I was loved well and part
Of something dear. I was well loved,
And times change.

It’s okay.

12/25 Friday

Wake to breakfast with mom and brother
Open presents, pat dogs, prep for Christmas dinner
Friends say hi.

12/24 Thursday

I still miss being your co-pilot
Today’s drive was long,
The music good.

12/23

How do we fall in love? 
Perhaps in many ways. First, for me 
Was your kindness,

Then, that you listened and cared, 
Touched at the deepest level
And completely loved.

12/22 Tuesday

A man on a white horse reined to a stop.
It was you taking time to tell three strangers
About the game.

I learned polo on your horse long before 
I knew you. In a playful bet, I won, garnered
A first date.

Think we surprised each other
Neither of us was much interested before.
We were after.

12/21 Monday

We are not given many chances with love.
And should welcome it where it shows.
Thunder was one,

Your white horse I knew even before you.
Thunder who carried us both always, and
I trusted implicitly 

12/20 Sunday

On a late wintry afternoon, in a store facing
The Common, lit for the holidays,
I sold a fellow

A brown cowboy hat. He, spoke of horses,
Music, heading back to the Cape. I rushed
For the bus, 

But missed his and years later, with humor, 
He would recount this lost chance of 
Loving me sooner.

12/19 Saturday

Advent arrives trailing deep joy to most of holidays,
For a smaller group, scarred by sorrow, the onset is
A quieter march

Marked by reminders of what is gone. I know, I do.
Yet this year, more alone than ever past, I wish 
A different route.

May my mind sift the loved memories of my Dear,
Let a time each day regard gracious thoughts 
Of our time.

For I am tired, hollowed by sorrow’s weight, 
Would welcome, respite of this measure, 
Hope for serenity. 

12/18 Friday

If I stand at the marsh’s edge
Hollering: Come back, come back, it’s
Been too long.

Would you even hear, or care? Too long
I’ve been alone and you are just
Gone, just gone.

So I ask when, when again will
I feel filled, again fine own my own?
Will I ever.

12/8 Tuesday

Rode today, have lost the courage for it,
Lost much to fear that I want that back,
Along with joy.

I want to ride again like I did, happy
To sit a good horse, glad to be outside. 
I want courage,

That lucid spirit which finds delight again. 
To be on my own, to appreciate, savor 
My own life. 

12/5 Saturday

I have leaned on others, who have 
Their own lives to live. Time for 
My own life. 

I will watch parades, paint, treasure 
My old and new friends, enjoy my
Own time alone,

Expand the love for my own life. 
Truly the last gift from you, to live just
My own life.

12/4 Friday

Learned I no longer see clearly. 
And I'm done mastering the art how 
To live alone. 

Over these six years, I have run, 
Leaning on others as I could, even
Beyond their scopes. 

Indeed, I have learned to live 
Alone. I can do it. Only now I want 
To learn more. 

12/3 Thursday

Japanese potters wisely
Know repairs made to
Broken clay vessels

Can be done, only the lines
Will ever be visible. So 
Choose to fill 

The cracks with gold, 
Giving shattered things new
Beauty with strength. 

12/2 Wednesday

Woke to the swoosh of murmarations 
Swirling through treetops, to run barefoot
Through wet leaves,

White nightgown clinging, hands clapping 
Encouragement onward all those birds in
Their amazing flight. 

Now, window open to wind and showers,
Under the old turtle blanket, cocooned in only
My own warmth. 

11/30 Monday

What do I want. What.  
Some body again who cares 
For my call,

As the best part of their day.
Who loves getting it. 
Who's day is

better for a few simple words. 
For sharing  a slice of life with 
One who cares. 

11/26 Thursday

Grace at its best carries us 
Easily in an embrace that 
Makes life effortless. 

Grace otherwise must be carefully held 
And still may often leave us 
Bereft and scarred. 

11/17 Tuesday

What a string of perfectly beautiful days, 
Cool and breezy. Painting in my studio while
Listening to music.  

Walk the dogs along pine-needle strewn paths.
Home to fresh warm breads, a glass of wine under
A moon-dark sky.

Bid my dogs, my cats, goodnight, then open 
Windows to the last autumn air, warmly nestled 
Under furry blankets.

11/15 Sun

What a complete, utter fool am I to think
Love would find me again. That to another I
Would be first.

Such is a hurtful, delusional fantasy, such idiocy, 
I can not any longer count love as a possibility, yet,
When could I?

The  small equilibrium gained a half year ago,
Now broken, is a cost dear. I hope only I can regain
Me alone needed.

10/13 Tues

Asked what do I want.
An answer overwhelms, as
For so long,

It was you and our life, however gone both are. 
These past years, an assemblage of the fallout
Into only myself.

Gone is the decades of love, comfort together,
Now it is  just me, alone, how aware of that. But body 
And soul remember.

So what do I want. Will love you always, could
Welcome another with love always, would he
Love me always.

If not, than thankful for the good will shared,
Wish that other well, and guard the
Serenity I have.

10/10 Sat

Are we just one thing or another? This or that?
Perhaps at our most simplistic we are a mix,
Body, brain, soul.

And if bliss is a perfect blend of all, perhaps, 
Then, whenever one is ignored, we chance
Flirting with folly.

But, even when the odds are too minute,
Pursuing despite the stakes, may yet be
Worth the gamble 

And if the wager falls contrary, may the merit 
Of trying temper the pain in revealing the
Fool I am.

10/9 Fri

I like driving, the awareness of the task at hand,
Things close by, the world surrounding and 
The thoughts accompanying.

I like being driven, to just rest, watch all, 
Converse or not. Now is a lot of one, too long
Since the other.

10/5

I drive into the remnants of a hurricane 
Blown away, drive through sanded winds
And deep water.

The surf lays hard over the beach strand, 
Gales push against me, I lean into it. 
Only too well

I know standing alone. Sometimes a body,
And soul, appreciates being held up, even 
For a moment.

10/4, Sunday

Rejection, however kindly wrapped is still a dismissal 
Rebuff, refusal, a go away. Beyond soft touches and words 
Remains only, no.

I do not know, does the heart feel larger only for the hurt
Or is that only the implosion before it curls smaller yet. 
I don’t know.

Twenty eight years ago, still I wear your gold band,
For five and some I’ve walked heart alone,  my way now.
I only know

That love is a treasure. I wish for it, miss for it, 
yearn for it. Will it ever grace my life again,
It’s likely, no. 

9/15 Tuesday

Hah, read the last post and laugh.
I may be willing to accept another, again
Into my life,

But, who might be willing to share
Theirs with me? The field of possibilities
Is quite empty,

And unlikely to change. I am left realizing
I could, again, be content with my own company.
A wiser path.

9/14 Monday

This other stops for lunch before heading on.
I enjoy his company, if not quite the feelings
Rising in me.

The friend who left this morning led me
To believe he might be open to such.
He is not,

Made clear, not that way. 
I am left realizing I could, again, be open to such, 
Again, accept love,

Again, welcome sharing life with another. 
Space in my heart for more, even while never 
Not missing you. 

9/13 Sunday

After a wonderful month here, one friend
Prepares to leave, heading for new adventures
Of her own.

Another visits, a routine trip that coincides 
with this goodbye. Together we all walk the shore 
as the sun sets. 

9/12 Saturday

Hard rain, gray day, good wet paint sale.
We each sell a few paintings
And enjoy friends.

9/11 Friday

A week with an old friend and her poodle. 
We paint again, together. How I have missed
This dear camaraderie.

9/6 Sunday

Drive home, I am over used to long drives but
This one I am not looking for others to fill spaces. 
I am looking

Only for my own space, for quiet and thoughts,
For music. Leaving this land in warming morning light 
It looks sweet.

9/5 Saturday

My  niece and new nephew are splendid!
I can only wish to them the happiness we knew, but for
Many more years.

9/4 Friday

Left early to drive to Ithaca. New roads. 
Coming in not impressed with the countryside
Glad to arrive

Dinner with family for this wedding. Enjoyed
Of course and of course see the huge differences
Choices give life. 

I am glad to be here with my family, However 
too short the time which underscores how
Alone I am. 

9/3 Thursday

The shop has slowed. Live and learn. 
Part of the fracas was over rehanging. 
Intentions were good

Expressed but not clearly. After ponies comes
Landscapes. A chance for the partner to shine 
Maybe. Maybe not. 

Next year do this change sooner. I see that
She felt pressured. Is it important to consider?
Yes and no.

In the larger scheme of life, no. In learning 
the small particulars here, yes. My fault, naturally,
Not communicating that.

9/1 Tuesday

A friend staying with me modeled today
Here in my yard and was divine. 
A joy to paint.

For the first time new painting friends came, 
The painting intense, fun! The day was glorious,
The company splendid.

An amazing respite in what is otherwise 
Not so easy a life to live. It's true, life's better
With good companions. 

8/31 Monday

Another allowed how often what upsets 
Us so with someone else is the recognition of
Ourself in them. 

My impatience, lack as a teacher, carrying
too much hurt and jealous of those who have
Another to share,

All mine, these faults, wherever I see them.
Mine, yes and yet, am I really the only one
At fault here? 

8/27/15 Thursday

Another friend has called me an awful person.
I have treated her badly and unkindly, been
Hurtful and frightening.

One, I may be able to dismiss but now two?
I have to own it. And must remember I can 
Count the people


Who care for me on less than one hand. Remember,
Goad self: suck in, lay low, all are better. Should,
Really, just leave.

8/13, Thursday

I asked as a child, please G-d don’t let me live 
And die in the only one place as did my elegant aunt.
And G-d didn’t.

Later in life I swore never again would one dear to me
Die without that last voice heard, touch felt should be mine.
G-d granted that.

Mine was the last voice, touch for you. I am glad. I will 
Live alone, die alone, untouched, unheard. Of G-d, I will
Ask no more.

8/11 Tuesday

Revue: life as linder. I can love again. Another, even
Myself, finally. I have had good love. I will not
Settle for less.

8/10 Monday

To tired to move, I have pushed too much, finally 
Hang that hammock, spend the rest of the day
Reading and sleeping.

8/8 Saturday

Second Saturday again. I sell. Meet the young man
I painted, horse paintings are liked, things
Are going well

8/7 Friday

Six decades now I have walked this earth.
Never did I think at this point to be dependent
Solely on myself.

Half a decade, now, I have had to assimilate
This through my heart and soul. Yet, ends still
Dangle hurtfully raw

And I still find weighing choices alone
Not pleasant, somewhat easier. Just still miss you 
doing it, too

last week was fun, this one hard. Doing things
For the shop, I have driven myself past strength 
To bone-tired weary.

It is doing well. Now for myself on this day,
Another choice, give the same attention
Now for myself.

7/31 Friday

Again under the pier as the ponies slip into the waters
Heading home. This week I wanted to do, would’ve
Gladly done alone

But found friends to come along. They also enjoyed
The experience, enjoyed sharing it together in my home
And with me .

7/30 Thursday

On a shaded bleacher, another morning watching
A childhood book come to life. Another afternoon
In shop, painting.

7/29 Wednesday

One friend off in a boat, the other bikes
The main roads with me to meet ponies.
We reach water

Wade in, stand under a pier deep in muddy water,
Shaded with a good view, watch as the first pony
Steps onto shore.

Watch this other friend work, see differences,
See on this week things mesh and some photos
Collected are useful.

7/28 Tuesday

In the shop painted postcards, at home
Friends who willingly came along for the ride.
I enjoy both.

7/27 Monday

Up, with friends, at 4am to bike from the loop.
Surf side for sunrise out of a cloudy, sky, ponies from
A misty north.

7/26 Monday

Linder I was as a child to my siblings
Linder I will take now as Linda
Can’t handle things.

7/25, Saturday

I haven’t been writing, haven’t felt the use of it.
Why, what for, who cares for all who read this.
Which is nobody.

My two “best friends”, the meds seem to be doing
What they are meant to do, and doing more 
Than I need

With their help, my usual not so up self
Has slipped down further, just one more thing
To do alone.

I haven’t written in awhile, why bother,
Even I can’t stand listening to myself, why
Would anyone else.

7/9 Thursday

Two days fly by getting things I want to do done.
Done between what really needs done and what
Can slide now.

Slide now, is a big thing in my life and I do not
Like it. Must I work against what I know I want just
To get there?

Probably.  How do I accommodate being alone? 
How? Per usual, one breath, one step, however
Slow it is.

7/8 Weds

I enjoy a friend’s friend. Only, it shows 
The cracks in life. Yes I wish he was alone, too.
He is not.

I enjoy time with him but it is stolen
From another and I hate that, as, 
I know that.

I will enjoy this month, these times I would do
With him or not, and then it will be time
To say goodbye.

7/6 Monday

Left the dogs to be groomed, the cousin cooking
And run a lot getting things done, finally go
To the studio.

Talk with folks, learn things its good. 
A friend’s friend comes , we discuss a project
Coming up soon.

Yet all is so outside me, the cousin and his life,
The friend’s,which has no room really in his, and 

I remain, alone.

7/4 Saturday

Our friend left early, I spent the afternoon 
In the island studio with my cousin,
It was fun.

Went home to dine on food he had prepared
And drank enough that he too felt the need 
To tell me

What I should do. I am angry. 
Will box that with all the rest that guides little, yet
Hurts a lot. 

7/3 Friday

Early day spent with cousin, afternoon in the island studio
Early afternoon, painted outside, then sold a painting,
Left early evening

Joined my guests for dinner and talking, 
A quiet night, a good night but somehow I 
Am loosing connection.

Beyond where am I going, who am I becoming.
I am afraid, once again, not much, and should
I bother, why.

7/2 Thursday

Spent these last three days rearranging my studio.
My studio, the one at home, changing the it’s order
A new way.

Had almost all in good order by afternoon today
Time to cook and relax while waiting for 
My cousin’s arrival

I am happier with the studio now, not such a matter, 
I am just as happy as I can be these days which
Isn’t so much.

6/29 Monday

A bit of a problem today with one friend
Who insists and elaborates how my life
Could so improve,

As if my saying no only proves she is correct,
If only I would think as does she.  Somedays just thinking
Is so hard. 

6/28 Sunday

A good day painting outside near the studio
Friends nearby doing what they like to do.
I enjoyed that.

Not so much the what I should do’s.
I don’t know, but frankly, no one else has
The answer either.

6/26 Friday

Painted in the afternoon in the studio
Have spent the week doing anything but that.
Friends come tomorrow.

6/23 Wednesday

Took out your frames today, started finishing them.
They line my studio wall, painted and gilded
Ready to wax.

Took them out, thought of your hands
While I worked on them, missing your deft
Touch, now gone.

I’ll frame them dear to keep long as I will live.
I’ll see you in them and touch them as if you.
It storms tonight.

6/22 Monday

Really hate the pool, shocked today
Trying to get it in shape. Bitten by the cur
while feeding it,

Spent the afternoon into evening at the studio
Watching others go about their time off
As I realize

How much I am alone outside, ever looking in.
Was even as a kid and then you took me in and
We found belonging.

6/21 Sunday

A friend talked me halfway home.
A sweet pleasure, as is now knowing others
Do remember us.

Hate that pool but love seeing friends use it,
Home late afternoon to join the pool party
And settle down.

Hotdogs and hamburgers and chicken
Grilled at their house later, so tasty, 
Remember our fathers.

6/20 Saturday

It is a long drive back to where we lived
When one is not sure the trip will be good.
I go anyways.

In the late afternoon follow a familiar road 
To see a young woman married on this farm along
the river bank.

To greet folks not seen for too long and find
We are both remembered. May these two find
Our same beauty.

6/19 Friday

Tired, I drive to the island, open shop.
Tired I work through the day, alone, 
Tired of that.

6/17 Wednesday

Up early, meet a new friend and go hunting,
Hoping for skipjacks in Deale, looking to photo. 
We found three.

And I liked watching him talk to folks,
Finding who had boats around in that way
Men have together.

Listening to his stories, spending a few hours
Differently. I would like to continue exploring like
Men always have. 

6/15 Monday

Right now I prefer painting alone
In this new studio, turning on the music
Painting to that,

And singing to myself, because it is easier to do
Than to let my studio-mate do on her own
And keep shut

Unless asked. It has been several decades since 
I so shared studio space with another. Where ever is
Deanna Foster now?

6/13 Saturday

First opening in the new shop
No sales, but people did come through for
The Second Saturday

Art Stroll. Indeed, some came specifically
To see us and the response online has been good
Still, no sales.

And although there were no sales, 
There was interest and conversation,
Which is good.

6/10 Wednesday

Meet with friends for a bite to eat
And then go home to continue trying
To find order.

6/8 Monday

Am feeling rushed this days and pinned,
The meds don’t help and I am far behind
But crying less.

It helps, knowing it is not all me, helps, 
But part is, the part I have not addressed.
Needing a crutch.

6/7 Sunday

These handful of days, I cry, often, feeling
As adrift as those first days without you - no better
Now, than then.

I cry, often, feeling bereft and alone. Well, I am.
Only lately it cuts so deep. I have laid your knife hard
Into my wrist,

Not yet deep enough,  just not the time. 
So, I cry often, I cry, I cry, and as ever, no longer
Does anyone hear. 

6/6 Saturday

Swing today between what is important
This shop or my thunder scared dog
This shop or

My dying cat? Easy what wins.
Drove through rain to where those beings
I care for.

Surrounded by them, watching, finally 
A Triple Crown. Called Joel because,
Couldn’t call you.

6/5 Friday

Painted in the Chincoteague studio today.
I miss my dogs underfoot. I miss the life
We all had.

Without them just underscores what I am
Now, a person alone, who has only herself
To rely on.

Which is not a bad thing and even admirable,
But I am not that yet, neither reliable to myself
Or anyone else.

However I consider all this, 
I should include the meds, which are known
For misaligning moods.

I am prone to stillness, to melancholy
Lately these dip deeper. I am left snared
In despondency, crying.

6/4 Thursday

Much of this season I am 
On my own and, the down days
Outnumber the good.

Perhaps it is true, we are not put here
Solely to be happy, that even contentment
Will not last.

These may be true, but I am willing, however 
Mired and pinned I feel, even still, to flail 
Against this hopelessness.

6/3 Wednesday

And then comes along days grayed,
Masked past simple contentment
Choked with fears

For  life gone, for  emptiness ahead,
For moments filled with single tears.
Grief for days

Past, futures gone, and present asks, 
Finally, feel only the aches of 
Being fully alone.

6/2 Tuesday

A wonderful, rainy day, gray and enclosing.
I go no where but to my easel and work 
Out a problem.

Visit with dearest friends through phone
And feel connected afar and connected
Within my soul.

Not always an easy place to reach
And so more treasured when achieved,
However fleetingly so.

6/1 Monday

By the end of the day, no news is good.
Evidently I remain HCV free, however at
Odds I feel.

So I putz through this day doing small things
That anchor me to the ground here and inside
To my soul.

None of it large or important, just quiet
And settling to my psyche which these days
Teeters on edge.

5/31

How could I have forgotten that beach towns
Are filled with frivolity and sun and fun?
Actually I didn't. 

But that so many would be couples, of course,
So twos together, yes, that I did. So on top of these 
Past busy weeks 

Is too much of doing alone, alone, alone 
And coming home to more problems
And more alone.

Tonight I can say couples should all die together
Wish I had, am so angry you left me dealing with
Stress, misery alone. 

5/30 Saturday

Last two days in the new studio
Have been light on visitors but
Good for painting.

Yet I am not quite into the swing 
Of working here and am unsettled,
Unhappy with work.

5/29 Friday

Halfway in this latest journey 
With my two latest best friends,
Sovaldi and Ribavarin.

My energy levels remain as ever
They have been and hopefully I am 
Still hvc free.

5/28 Thursday

I am not sure yet what to think 
Of this adventure, or why, really,
I’m doing it.

Oh can say to see if I like the idea
Of having a studio/gallery, prefer it attached 
To my house.

Or I need to get off this long dirt road,
And that is true, I do. So this is directed
Towards doing that.

But I have been running off this road
For the last five years and and washing back
Again and again.

It has been noted that meeting anyone 
Is next to impossible as long as I go
No where new. 

Selling is good as it means another 
Likes my work. But it isn’t needed for
Me to eat.

Perhaps I am doing it to allow life to perhaps
Open to change that  can be welcoming,
Rather than hurtful.

5/27 Wednesday

Dinner last night with friends,
Whole flounder, grilled nicely
Cobia was delish.

Spent a few hours on the island
Opened and drew, waiting to see some folks 
It was pleasant.

Left at five and came home to make dinner
Relax and catch up on bills, a different
Kind of day.

5/26 Tuesday

Catch up, this day, as so much was left
As it was, where it was and I am still
Not caught up.

5/25, Monday

Haven’t been committed to a place being open
In a long time, feels burdensome and we feel
Four days enough!

It is pleasant to swap stories with others but 
I can see it is not a panacea for closeness,
Although it does

Allow me to appreciate the sweetness
Of my solitude when it is not an unbroken
Drag of time.

5/24 Sunday

It is late as I sit here thinking of the last week, s toil.
The shop is set up and we opened two days ago for
This holiday weekend

People did come in, a few here and there, summer folk.
We are considering when to be open without being
There all week.

Easel set up,  learning the dynamics needed for a small 
Working studio with shop,  space for ball but mostly
We are painting.

5/19 Tuesday

I have had company in my house
And have started another adventure
On my own

I do with a friend and am helping her learn
What this thing may need as best I know,
I too learn

I think this is a good thing for me
To be doing, even as I still will
Ever miss you.

5/13 Wednesday

Brought up on things like five year plans 
When I think quickly, it has been an eternity
Since your death.

And I have little to show for it, still living
In the same place, while most every one we knew
Has moved on.

Read the five years of blogs in a single seating,
And I now see the slow evolvement of a woman 
Devastated, destitute, lost,

Who in time eventually learns of dealing
With her horrible reality through moments,
Steps and breaths

To different levels of equilibrium. Not yet to
The sense of place, of home, of self hoped for, and
Though it feels 

As time has flown too far, too long, been wasted, yet while 
slow perhaps, progress inches towards knowing me
As I am now. 

Who was for so long halved and pained, is slowly finding
Whole again, however forever tempered by deepest hurt and
Memory of you.

5/12 Tuesday

Two thousand nine is a lost year for me.
I can find no journal, my calendar is gone, have only
Jack’s pocket calendar.

I am afraid I have lost the small details,
Wish so to remember what I can before
I loose all:

Most of January, dinner with friends,
Jack working for the auctioneer and
doing side jobs.

A show at the B&B, sell some things, riding 
When we can, Jack shooting as chance allows.
He enjoys trap

February, a gallery show East meets West. Jack
Pouring more Dogfish beers over 10 ounces,  staying
with the Russells’.

March, Joel comes to visit, of course they
Go shooting and we conspired on dinner menus,
Lots of talking.

In March I broke that lamp and in a welling of despair
Felt the toll these years here had taken on me as
Well as Jack

I paint Snow Hill. We work the oddi auction on Apr 22.
Ian sings Time that sun sets, this outfits history - 100
Head or more.

The Ward show again falls on his birthday. His mallard 
Garners no awards but Jack asks questions, listens avidly
To judges’ advice.

I still have the photo of Jack and Dover from an earlier
Bark in the Park. Did he take Arlo this year?

I can’t remember.

May, Phil is here to visit and they both shoot,
And go to the Shorebirds as once they would
Go to Fenway,

Jack shot as often as he could, and worked his studio,
Ideas emerging and shaping as he would come ask
Help with drawing.

He found designs, decoys, spoons to copy, 
we built mock-ups of clay, allowing his touch
to learn, transform. 

June we did not see Delbert again but at the Globe did
Hear Roy Bookbinder, whose words I wrote, perhaps in
That lost journal

Late in the month, pregnant with triplets
Delia came with Inning and Kimmi
Summer with us.

The pool was a favored spot, all sun drugged. 
Inning helped with farm chores, we shot skeet
And watched baseball.

Days on the river, swimming off the boat,
Trips to outlets looking for deals. Old friends arriving
To hug Delia.

Days to the seashore, the fireman’s carnival, of barbequeing
In the back yard and sharing recipes. Watching polo,
Enjoying our company.

Kimmi following Ahhlow, and Arlo licking her face.
The joy of having this sweet family in our house.
Time too short.

What did we do for my birthday? I don’t know 
Dinner somewhere? we were together and we were 
happy with that

And his doctors appointments were about psoriasis 
Not prostate and levels although I remember 
Talking of such.

Sept 11 was Ligonier and Rich was not well. 
Mostly I remember the long ride home discussing
Views about death.

Where to be buried? Not Pocomoke and probably
Not Needham, keep it simple, he needed only his ring
In the grave.

Oh well, when we are both buried in Needham then
Will his ring rest in the grave. Rich’s memorial
Was on Sept 25th.

22 years on October 4th, celebrated with each other
Content with our being together. Two decades plus,
Looking for more.

We redo the bathroom, because whatever comes, next
This time we are going to enjoy a remodeling project
While we’re  here

Mid month an appointment with that urologist,
Biopsy at the hospital results and a diagnosis
It is cancer.

But this Doc is confident and arrogant. 
We,trusting, so bewildered, everyone heals from 
this, don’t they?

Jack signs up for a decoy show next labor day. 
He will need to work hard to carve enough inventory.
A great idea.

I will hang paintings, and can see a time we do this often,
A new venture. I consider an asheville workshop
For both of us. 

Another goose season and better a deer season
By the pine Jack set up and shot his first deer
A ten pointer.

A shot through the jaw, dropped instantly
He calls us at Faith’s to tell. I fly home in the subaru,
Joel, Rico follow.

We hang the rack in a tree so when it has decompsed
To skull can hang in our home. Another deer later,
Provides me venison.

One day I will hang that rack in the kitchen above
His painting and when that happen, within a year
I will leave.

Thanksgiving, my mother chose to go to Cheryl’s
Afterall, there is always next year. Joel brings a wild
Turkey he shot.

We, as often we would, discuss recipes for moist bird.
Presented on a marvelous old platter, the bird and all
Is perfectly detectable.

Saturday, Jack and Joel do not go shoot, 
Rather help Rico and me at an auction, so never have
that last shoot.

And the times we rode, the last, taking the bay, the gray
To ride the back fields along the river, as ever riding
touched by heaven.


December, he is content with his doctor, 
His choice of surgery date and I drive him early
to the hospital.

His doctor leaves me hanging, 
never comes out after to talk to me
about my husband.

Who stays in the hospital a few extra days
Its a procedure new for the doc, has my Dear in pain,
Told its normal.

Jack heard from that doc, that this 
would be the most painful thing he 
would ever feel. 

However much I fault myself and I do,
How I hold those words against that doc 
And hate him.

The snowstorms started while Jack was still 
in the hospital and harried us forever with a cold
I’ve never lost.