A spring breeze rustles the trees
shooshes across my neck
as a solitary songbird
dee-da-das from afar.
The sun pokes a morning face through tree limbs,
breathing hello at me
just as my old dog did minutes ago,
filling my nostrils
with her warm doggy scent,
the universe’s most gentle wake-up call. Continue reading
In poetry I find beauty
In poetry I find peace
In poetry I find an antidote to daily life
an antidote to noise
an antidote to chaos
an antidote to cruelty and to uncaring
and to thinking about the unspeakable horrors people commit Continue reading
The shoreline meanders and we with it
skimming rocks across the sleepy water,
murmuring to each other,
our voices hushed as we watch
for the shimmery flash
of fish surfacing
to snatch an evening meal.
In the distance a solitary fisherman
casts off,
the silken thread from his reel
spinning out into the lake,
offering a too-easy dinner
for any fish lazy or foolish enough
to accept. Continue reading
Yellow blush dangling nearly out of reach
I stretch on tiptoe to reach you,
pluck you from your home to bring you to mine. Continue reading
I broke your Christmas ornament.
It slipped from careless fingers,
shattered and scattered across the floor.
I stood staring, tears welling in my eyes,
heartbroken,
as if my very memories of you
were in the splintered shards. Continue reading
I’ve spent much of the early part of April, National Poetry Month, reading the poetry of Leonard Cohen. That’s largely because I spent much of the end of March doing the same. I came across Cohen’s last book, The Flame, among my library’s CD books, and brought it home to accompany me on my way to and from work. Halfway through, I went back to the library and got the hardcover book as well.