“Look at the beautiful, green buds!” she exclaimed.
“I worry for them. It’s only February,” he replied.
Now, it’s nearly April and the leaves are unfurling and stretching to the sun.
He’s not here to see that and yet it’s happening all the same.
Faith trumps worry.
your essence, back and belly legs tangled in sheets the luxury of morning
We sat at the beach, chatting and watching a little boy play with his ball. The next time we looked over, he was crying. His ball had drifted out too far for anyone to reach it. I told my friend, “I can’t look. It just makes me sad.” He responded by saying, “Just think, some…
pigeon blanket over trains clouds fill equinox sky the road stretches before me
how silly of me to think you might come perhaps if i told you it involved my head and a gun i just want you to be here for the celebrations you just want to be here for the pain how silly of me to think you might call me perhaps if I told you…
seagull chases heron (and wins!) the purring of a ferry engine and red, gauzy sky a kind father teaching his children to fish two kayakers gliding while girls throw stones a small tugboat gracefully pulls more than her share (a metaphor for mothering) there is peace here
yesterday was a different kind of conversation with petals flying and thunder booming in the end, a soft a rain fell against the night * this morning songbirds are warbling the ancient trees are still and plaintive a jay screeches a call to action as the sky stretches * tomorrow is not here yet