Wednesday, September 28, 2011

When I was six years old
I bet my mother couldn't I fly?
And why not grow
wings, feathers, and fly
with so much sky
all around.
And when I was seven, well child?
Why so low?
And why not be low
with so much ground
so low and earth so cold
between toes.
I could only grow
wings so fast you know.
And when I was nine, mother braids
my hair.
Hold still for a second,
you're not going anywhere?
I couldn't care about hair
when it was everywhere
So was I, so fair,
going anywhere.
And when I was twelve,
oh my
how I wished I could fly
and again and again
I was
I was
I was
When I was
to fly
And why not fly with so much sky?

Friday, July 15, 2011

A Flash

Traveled to Ireland this spring...

Thought I'd share.

rain and cloud days, always

and ocean breezes biting

and everything is green.

Irish doors

beauty in stone and glass

art, thought on walls in Belfast

and Galway


great institutions, overcome by vines

ruins, worn by time.

she stands protecting

holding out her hands.


Thursday, July 7, 2011

Love and Buzzing

there is an abundance of love on the lake

and buzzing

Everywhere, they 
roller coaster 
arial acrobats!

I discover that they are
like ghosts that can't 
- photographed -
a few pose for me
I press down on the shutters
only to find they are no
longer in the picture
funny, huh?

Mr. and Mrs. Mallard 
drop in for a visit

they don't see what all the fuss is about ...

they have a much more relaxed

they nibble on plants

because they like
to stay trim

and the dragonflies whirl around me like I fascinate them as much as they - me, before another dragonfly far more interesting than 
a photo-snapping person 
once again distracts them 
they're off.

Ah, summer love.

Thursday, June 30, 2011


A walk is a lovely thing.
When the Sun's not too hot
before nine
and the air's not too damp and
only feels like a friendly hug and not
an oppresive oppressor.
And most everyone's driven
to work so you're
without the engine growls
and the smell of gasoline
tainting the morning air.
Alone but not alone,
because someone's walking
a big black labrador
and someone's pushing their
baby in a stroller down the street
and someone's riding their bike
with their biking goggles and
gloves and everything
and some construction men
are finally
fixing that roof.
You can say goodmorning,
hey there,
and when you can say those
things you're really not alone.
And sometimes
just sometimes
you spy something wonderful
like rabbit's ears peeking
above an untrimmed lawn
or a stack of potted plants
all growing together
with the big ones on the bottom
and the rest tiered up
- how ingenius?!
And that's why a walk is really
quite a
lovely thing.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Melting Ice

The world is cracking and bubbling and gurgling

under melting ice.

Little buds shiver
Cold air brushes the underparts of their leaves

Mild tempered weather
not easily peeved

Winter's welcome.