w&m Anne Hills ©1998 Raven Heart Music/ASCAP From Anne’s album Bittersweet Street On the first day of autumn she will get out her sweaters Make a sprucewood fire and read Van Gogh’s letters She will stand on a hill And … Continue reading
Anne Hills
w & m Anne Hills & Michael Smith © 1998 Raven Heart Music/Bird Avenue Publishing (ASCAP) From Anne’s album Bittersweet Street When I first met you, you were ridin’ high Woman on each arm you had a rovin’ eye You … Continue reading
From the moment I was born you were preparing me for this. Standing me up letting go of my arms as I bobbed on waves of air walking into the world Encouraging me as I bobbed back to you … Continue reading
This year, this year, this year is finally done My mother’s ashes washed beneath the waves And priceless friends have seen their setting sun My tears, with other’s, salt upon the graves Today the … Continue reading
Raking Leaves By Moonlight There must be a confident moon, or the leaves won’t begin to glow. A clear night, or the last fire in their veins will remain diminished. The scattered stars that shine past the moon will begin … Continue reading
The tide pools at Otter Rock and the seagulls get busy. Tiny creatures are on the move. Fish make use of sandy camouflage, caught among a salty seaweed salad. cabbage-red twists rubbery spotted braids of … Continue reading
dawn lightens the lake obsidian turns emerald, as sunlight lifts the blue and the river churns past the pier but where is Margaret? the gulls soar, sweep low sparrows sing and lift us from dreams white caps chase each … Continue reading
somewhere in this moist greyness black gathers ripe red clipping clapping flapping – flipping black calls out barking bickering flickering flame red about black flashes forward to snatch at scratch at crushed crumbs clicking coal hard beaks as black streaks … Continue reading
The most renowned milliner in Paris blessed with the world’s most malleable linen (woven from the slender, pale flax that flowers the Provence fields blue each spring) and Sinamay bases, biases and bindings (harvested in Costa Rica from lupis abaca … Continue reading
Forget-Me-Not Whoever you were to be you cut a straight road into the mountain of our fears. Whoever you were to be you left a mark on our world but our world was never your world even as you sought … Continue reading