Summer snapshots

Morning walk in June - She plucks up courage, a handful of daisies Happy summer squeals- Toes touch the Atlantic for the first time *** Happier still the Golden, smile flapping in the breeze of a passing car Listen for mother, baby robin - she calls from high above *** Downpour splashing through sunlight - …

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Down in the Garden

It’s a quiet, deep green, rain-misted first Saturday of summer. The cat finds his place on the rocker, circles the seat twice, then settles in for the afternoon. Ballgame is on tv in the other room. The boy reads a new novel from our library visit this morning, stretching his long pre-teen legs out from …

Slow me down

This last week marked the end of a busy school year for me (I work at a school) and my son (now officially entering 7th grade). Time flies. And so do we, from day to year, from task to chore to distraction and, occasionally, to dreams. It is no coincidence I chose this poem, "Slow …

Tent Poles

My extended in-laws buried two of their own on Saturday. Two different towns, two different groups of friends, family, colleagues, neighbors – similar sharing, binding, parting. The second gathering was graveside. I stood under a tent on the side of a hill filled with the remains of other people’s families, the light rain keeping time …

NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 18

A day late, today's poem is from yesterday's NaPoWriMo prompt. My starting poem is Jane Kenyon's Song (which begins, "An oriole sings from the hedge..."). Simple Pleasures Those hidden drops, forgotten seeds, fragile flower-filled absences that hill, valley, stream cannot contain: The simple pleasure of the long familiar. So lucky to be not forgotten but …

NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 16

Play Spring wiffle ball: snap of the bat, shy whistle, just missing the catch... jubilant cheers on breath-clouds, sliding home through slush. ***** Photo by Robert Collins on Unsplash

NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 12

Today's NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a haibun. Surprisingly, given the number of haiku I've written over the years, this is a first for me: Empty Pockets A mile walk from the bagel shop to the tidal river, and all the walkers and their dogs are out on the first warm Saturday of spring. Everyone …