He sat upon the bench beside the home reading his paper every day, or mounded both his hands upon his cane looking lithely out upon the field. And sometimes, when I came that way he called me by my name. And every time my path would wind that way I saw him sitting there. While […]
Read more "The Bench by the Home"A tree converses in a quiet way, tossing branches, arching in the spring. It greens it’s welcome, verdant home away for birds who’ve traveled, longingly on wing. – I tree in summer wears its glory light richly pleased at how it lines the cloud it stands attention, cooly tempers bright with shady silence, helpful and […]
Read more "A Tree Converses"A thump of rumpled rupture splonched upon the pane a shadow smear where feathered head collided with the traitor mirror. – It lies in crumpled feathers, struggling to move it’s wings of kaleidoscopic gleam splayed out like ruined broken things. – A rush of birding talons a hawk in beak and wing snags the […]
Read more "Mourning Dove"I thought the night would show more tame than day when working sun had gone to weary bed. But moonlit murmurs soon came out to play and whispered, wind-ing deep inside my head. – Shadows tune to different strings at night and dance macabre across the moondust sky. An ancient air, more harmony than bright […]
Read more "In Night"I saw the vasting sky turn bleak in minute-moments flat. So bright with sun-rayed shining streak then darkness where I sat. – I’ve seen the sky of mini minds turn light to anger so. And wondered (as one does at times) if this how we’ll go. – But I’ve known minds that turn around, walk […]
Read more "I Saw the Vasting Sky Turn Bleak"It gilds the trees in tinges. It travels on the air. It wreaths the clouds in flashiness and rarifies the fair. – The branches dance in golden; bright wonders from afar- the treasure storehouse glidenwave from some ancient star. – The world’s a riot fire the sky’s a-dance with flame. The clouds are smoke puffs […]
Read more "It Gilds the Trees"The sky cries that lately glowered o’er our trembling fields and shocked with shearing blasts of flashing fire. Now it streams its heart to us below. Unleashing droplet crystals small, and splashy-bright it slowly grows the life it looks upon. – – – Photo by Jonine Coetzer: https://www.pexels.com/photo/green-leaves-after-rain-8068753/
Read more "afterstorm"It is the smell of leaves and the sound of crickets and the brush of wind. . It is the sunshine, tilted like a ramp into the sky. . It is the clear, crisp edges of the world washed clean with the rain. . It is the stillness under drifting leaves calling us to rest.
Read more "September"The flames dance: cool and elemental, wrapped around their twine of radiating energy. The crackle of the pine the snap of sparks that clack like pop bottles splacking caps. – So odd to see the darting light the wall of whelming warmth so unconcerned– sporting hues of purple-blues of lava deep as sun. So full […]
Read more "Flames"Have you heard of Varin’s seat, have you heard the music bare, have you heard the salt spray songs that steel your soul in life-ish dare? – It comes on swells from Over-yon it comes in dales of aqua wave it comes all tinged in bronzish flame— the fire-gift the sky last gave. – Let […]
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