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
Category Archives: Poetry
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
In the quiet morning as finches feed and mourning doves scour the ground for seed among hollyhock shadows it comes to me why, like my mother I arrive at gardening in my middle years with a daughter too tart and … Continue reading
Your small, dark head fits into the hollow of my shoulder as perfectly as the day you were born. Your thin arm lies across my chest a delicate flower stem. I am in love with so many things in this … Continue reading
On the mantle in a carved wooden box, beneath your worn collar scratched tags and a little puppet, of you made by a young girl, long ago are your ashes. They arrived yesterday. You were delivered home one last time. … Continue reading