
succulent skies
pale pinks, lush lavenders
we draw our water
from a deep, deep well


succulent skies
pale pinks, lush lavenders
we draw our water
from a deep, deep well

laundered quilt,
heavily draped over deck rail
unqualified spring color
that somehow feels just right

gloved fingers
toss stones aside
dull razor claws
the canvas layer
mud clumps tip
of rounded spade
I wrench fresh babes
from tangled domiciles,
relocate each one
to its new home

gentle articulation of air
the bombast of a spring storm
those darkening skies,
that green, green grass
later, the coo
of mourning dove lovers

that feeling you get
when (most of)
your To Do’s
become – voila!
Ta DA’s!!
a darkening pall to the west —
encroaching storm
what needs done, needs done

writings going back to 2009
my own personal arcana,
musings on weather & politics,
family drama, future plans,
exhilarations and disappointments,
not necessarily in equal measure —
all gone, feather-light layers of ash
at the bottom of our fire pit
but not before archiving poetry origins
long forgotten which may yet yield
varying shades of lyrical gold
planning our basement remodel
we land – again! – on our final layout
chill air & biting wind
sunshine, a myth amid the blue
neighbor boys shooting baskets
in shorts, flip-flops & t-shirts
outshining the sun
my husband’s loving heart
Chit Chat