3/31

There is so much to be done here, well you knew looking to have time,

Time enough to do all and more. I look across fields and sky, struck still

And am overwhelmed.

3/30

Friends fly away, fly back to their own lives

Their own, this day of water-filled towns

No shortage weeping.

I don't see life as getting better, just as something to get through

And getting through will not put me anywhere so good as I was, so

I slog on.

3/29

This a week of cooking and conversing

Of concepts spanned out of thoughts and plates picked clean

Of keeping busy.

3/28

Walking the ocean beaches, we lean against high winds

While shorebirds whirl cawing above us.

I wish the wind was you.

3/27

Golden glints backlit over the warm russet marshes

The river runs high, a steely ribbon in a season of persistent excess

In all but the sky.

Evening light washes the expanse of field and wetlands

With colors muted in undertones of silvered pumice

Lay quiet on the eyes

3/26

This week of gentler weather allows walk abouts

Discussing plants and small tasks under skies too soft for sunsets.

Maybe tomorrow.

3/25

I go with this friend to visit a town, a shop, an eatery

And for a space can dress that time in limbo, you await our return.

Dull glass shards the soles of my feet.

3/24

The kitchen fills with the clang of spoons and pots.

Breads kneaded, formed, come fresh baked, leaving

Aromas of approval.

3/23

Through my mind circles an epithet changed for you

He never moved the stars from their courses

But he loved a good woman and he rode good horses.

I thought this would be on my headstone.

3/22

Providence brings a friend to stay with voices, laughter.

She settles into her room, unpacking company and conversation,

Ready to enjoy this home we made.

3/21

Driving south over roads oft traveled, a friend as co-pilot.

I loved being your co-pilot, believing we had so many miles yet to fly

Now I solo

3/20

Drove by this morning on the way to providence

Still staggering from what fate has rent on us, needing to find my way

On my own,

Drove by so I would know my way, on my own.

A way I really do not know but need accept as I must

On my own.

3/19

Oh how my soul does cry out wanting you back, not there.

Not there, however serene the spaces, however I can not change things.

How must I leave you there.

3/18

I have not enough now to help myself, my strength is small

I go through the paces of each day marking dirt in small steps,

Mainly hiding.

Hiding behind the commonplace, the small courtesies

Keeping from screaming, from kicking, from writhing in pain

Holding to breath.

3/17

I don't know what I am doing -I say that a lot these days.

Not entirely true as I weigh, sift, lumber, through thick muds

Looking for steady footing

Some, immersed in their own, claim to know how I feel, proceed

To submerge me. Decked in their momentary drama, have no idea,

really. I say nothing

For in this passing into death is a line of kind so crossed

Comparisons, however well imagined are not genuine, one continues

The other not