Thursday, December 31, 2015

12/31 Thursday

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

Saturday, December 26, 2015


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.

Friday, December 25, 2015

12/25 Friday

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

Thursday, December 24, 2015

12/24 Thursday

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

Wednesday, December 23, 2015


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.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

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.

Monday, December 21, 2015

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 

Sunday, December 20, 2015

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.

Saturday, December 19, 2015

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. 

Friday, December 18, 2015

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.

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

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. 

Saturday, December 5, 2015

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.

Friday, December 4, 2015

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. 

Thursday, December 3, 2015

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. 

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

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.