A Poem: Reading in late July

Reading in Late July The humid weight of summerpresses into the page of the bookwhich begins to set roots in my handswhich begin to stick to my lapwhich succumbs to the gravitational pullof the bench and the bench to the porchand the porch to the lazy earth, thusrendering all suspended in a hazy stillnessthick with…

Good Night, Robert Burns

Good night, Robert Burns, though we’ve not formally met. I pass you all the time, aware of you, yet only on the occasional New Year’s eve do I give you true consideration. Until this evening…when I caught you looking out over our city…this evening when the sun was dialling down to a gentle horizon glow…

Lens, Pens, Paper, Heart

These are some wild times in this wide world… And an opportunity to consider things…to notice. I’m trying to take a walk every day and to write as well. As I collect several pieces, I’ll put them together into a post. Haiku is not a regular form for me—the limitations and discipline is helpful these…

A Being unto Itself

February sometimes feels like a being unto itself. A variously grey and beautiful, amorphous, month that calls for patience and hope. And other things besides… February Toolbox A soup pot and a sturdy spoon; red pepper flakes; a daily walk. Only playing go-seek; A blanket of wooly heft, a flask of tea; a pom-pom upon…