Friday, August 26, 2016

#AwakeAugust, Friday, August 26, 2016



city living - window to window
overhearing a neighbor’s loss
this hot summer day

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

#AwakeAugust, Wednesday, August 24, 2016

only after hearing the cicada shrill
do I realize the silence
that came before

Sunday, August 21, 2016

#AwakeAugust, Friday, August 19. 2016

late night barefoot stroll
I can still feel the prickle
where the cicada crawled over my foot

Thursday, August 18, 2016

#AwakeAugust, Thursday, August 18, 2016

searching from window to window
to see the August moon
catching only glimpses through the trees

Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

#AwakeAugust, Tuesday, August 9, 2016


drifting off to sleep
I feel the footsteps on my blanket
of a cat long gone

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Monday, August 8, 2016

Sunday, August 7, 2016

Saturday, August 6, 2016

Friday, August 5, 2016

#AwakeAugust, Thursday August 4, 2016

trimming the blue leaves
from the "tinted" daisies
as if cutting wasn't enough

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Monday, August 1, 2016

Friday, January 31, 2014

And on the 150th day the plumber said, "Let there be water," and there was water. And the plumber saw the water was good. And the plumber said "Let the water run from the bathroom sink." And it was so. And the plumber separated the check from our checkbook. And on the 150th day, the bathroom was finished. 
Hallelujah!

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 29, 2014

unsure of my Neostylis orchid's fragrance
until I saw my cat sniff a blossom
and shake his head in disgust

Friday, January 24, 2014

Thursday, January 23, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 23, 2014

I cross over the frozen river
the stillness of the water captured
in this winter moment

in the distance 
frozen in air
the white billowing smoke 
of the nuclear towers

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 21, 1014

hotel parking lot
cars' windshield wipers
point up to the sky
rubber tree limbs in the snow storm

Saturday, January 18, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 18, 2014

treating my scarred hand
remembering when my grandmother
would burn herself while cooking
her burns took so long to heal 
and left deep dry purple scars
I notice the same on mine

Friday, January 17, 2014

Thursday, January 16, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 16, 2014

waking to another winter day...
with thick fog out my window
I'm inclined to perhaps write a novel
"50 Days of Grey"

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 15, 2014

The new telephone pole
is light and smooth.
The old telephone pole,
dark and full of holes,
leans a little to the left.
In the darkness of the storm
the wet poles are all the same.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 14, 2014

two flocks of geese
fly towards each other
sliding through their V-formations
like a well-choreographed marching band

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Saturday, January 11, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 11, 2014


Driving home from the vet's office
the cat stops meowing 
when I sing along with the Plain White T's...

..."And all your tears will subside" 
Plain White T's – Rhythm of Love

Friday, January 10, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 10, 2014

walking in the snow back to my car
I look for the boot prints I made before
among dozens of others

Thursday, January 9, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 9, 2014

on the airplane, can't help overhear
the salesman's phone conversation
"I'm ready to step up to the plate
and knock one out of the park."
... I sigh.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 7, 2014

fluid twists and plunges --
the flock of black birds ride icy wind currents,  
patterns mutating the sky
                 

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Friday, January 3, 2014

mindful writing, small stones-Jan 3, 2014

after the winter storm --
the scrape of shovels on the sidewalk
the whir of stuck tires in the snow bank
the bang of a sparrow into the glass door
the silent stealth of the cat

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Monday, January 28, 2013

mindful writing, small stone-Jan. 28, 2013

The house sparrow clings tightly
as the winter gale lashes at the thin branch.
Her feathers ruffle in a hundred directions
as she waits -
patient
until
for just one brief moment
the wind subsides
and she preens herself.