Their seasons

Her damp brow, from
hard work and well-
earned rest
a starling sings, and
she lifts her hands
in prayer-full stance–
the wind is shifting
and she remembers

In pre-twilight
early summer blues
a man-boy’s voice, inviting
her
don’t forget about the love
don’t leave it behind
don’t leave summer behind

She smelled evergreen
through July’s singe of grass
the first raspberries tart
and sweet
red lips musing
a wipe on the back of her arm
and in the leaves–
traces of longing

What do you suppose
the clouds talk about–
congregating in cirrocumulus bevy
when they see all of it–
the neck bite.
the slammed door.
one red apple.

By August’s fireflies
he–on the road
she–writing sonnets
on social media–
bursts from her pen
epics he will not read
reams, of
her late night daydreams

Just in time
for September,she
will answer the phone
breathless
wondering why he waited
until he finished the bottle
to call–
each word counted
and kept

Starting his wander back
through snowy by-ways
he searches for their key
in a pocket with a hole in it
knowing
it will take nearly ’til May
to speak of her again. Until

the breeze catches her scent
and he returns, to
find her once more–
his brown-haired fay
he swore was made of vapour
from the clouds
of early June

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Monday Random: spring cleaning

  • Though starting rather late, our cleaning for spring is advancing well
  • In my defense, it is difficult to forget that the season is not still winter
snowy cropped
the weather, Palm Sunday 2019
  •  We drove to church in driving snow, the visibility poor, but we got there safely
  • This morning the sun is so bright, I cannot see, even just looking out the window. Inspiring!
  • There were a few scuffles in the parceling out of cleaning tasks, but all was peaceful by day’s end
  • Today is a grocery and baking day, hopefully with a nice corner to read in later, when I have earned it

Happy Monday! It has come again. I bid you a great one, or at least a peaceful one–oh, and did I mention I love the blues? (the music, not depression) I love them like I love a good haiku–sadness and hope in one tasty morsel. Time for coffee and breakfast!

 

 

 

Monday random

DSC00130

 

  • Could I edit my feature photo to be a little smaller?
  • Sure I could
  • But I woke up to brilliant sunshine and a temp here of -2°F
  • I am planting a little mental spring garden to give me the will to go out the door this morning
  • today, on March 4
  • mmhmm
  • positivity is key
  • So this was intended to be a handful of random thoughts
  • instead I am harping on winter
  • winter that wants to stay
  • here’s a thought, and a tip for the day
  • Bakers? Don’t forget that even a sweet treat needs a pinch of salt in it to bring out the sweetness. Not much, just a half teaspoon, perhaps a quarter, or only a pinch. It’s chemistry. It works. Please trust me on this!
  • In other news, I am continuing sewing memory pillows for a friend. The first two were fashioned from sweaters, as will the next after this project today
  • which is two pillows made from a first communion dress from the sixties
  • It has been very rewarding, but gives me sweats taking the clothing apart, these dear memorials people held on to for so long
  • I just don’t want to screw it up.
  • But so far, so good
  • After that, writing, both a side project, and my own
  • And, if I get a couple of hours left at the end of the day in which I do not pass out early, I will watch an old movie I have been saving to watch with hubby
  • In the meantime–Onward, ho!
  • Think spring.

 

When I was queen

 

snow tree under light

 

 

in and out of the car
snow in my hair
icy wind
biting my skin

 

 

these are the days
that wake me up
and remind me that
I am alive

 

 

skin tingling
an old voice in my head
above me the street lamps pop on
the snow turning to sleet
and I turn on the windshield wipers

 

-I felt like a Queen then-

 

but I turn off the voice
listening to the wipers
instead
and the snow hitting the car

 

 

Hoodwinked

 When I wear my leopard print
faux fur hat
I sense some hostility
along with
the joviality
of those I meet

Playful and fun, and
warm as toast, my head
can manage
sub-zero mornings
with a smile

Catching admiring eyes
that surprise me
entering the supermarket
and the coffee shop
I perceive more

Perhaps they see
the animal in me
conjuring images
smoking and insincere
strength and ferocity
under that
faux fur hat


photo unknown, pinterest.com

warmth

he got into my car
and immediately
after ‘thank you’, offered
did I want to discuss
literature
why yes, actually
I would love to, in fact
I am trying to finish my novel(s)

he had been shoveling driveways
he said
and he was so happy
telling me how
he had earned 30 bucks
sopping wet and no coat
he said
it was a really good day

he could not open the door
and I reached to unlock it
on my side, ‘it is
an old, weird car, I must
unlock it on the door’
he said
‘oh, it is
a beautiful car’

I feel unsteady

these days
not the metaphysical bit
of the mind off kilter

but the way you did not expect of me
toddling over ice and snow
in fear of falling

no longer dancing lightly up and down steps
my skirt brushing my ankles
daring me to try it