Posted in Photography, Poetry

a midwinter god

our need to understand
the misunderstood

thrashes about
a moonless, midnight path
warning us to be careful with our falling words

dangerous to dwell in the cave
reality morphs into nightmares
forevermore a life balance

derelict actions swallowed up
in the abyss
a worn winter’s welcome

between the narrow path of wisdom
and the unassuming curves of knowledge.
Posted in Art, Poetry
Grandpa’s barn — pieced fabric
With home in the distance
and the dandelion chains grounded,
i jostle my memory again
dream of days spent carefree.

Watching butterfly wings grace grasses

—grown, in a star’s twinkle


Seeking out salamander’s rock ledge.
Finding fox’s buried bones emerge.
Dipping toes in granite pond.

Stirring grandma in the kitchen.
Windowsill of blue jar pickles.
Pies and noodles baked delicious.

As the cow’s path erodes.

Yesterday, trE posted a challenge to write a nostalgic childhood memory in five words, on her blog: A Cornered Gurl . I took it a step further and wrote a poem as I recalled the magical summers on the farm.

Life is bittersweet. Under the layer of happiness is another layer of grief. And we build the mountains steep.

Posted in Photography, Poetry
Who can love ever so sweetly
the fragrance of a lilac bloom, midwinter
when the scars of summer subdue
and the fog of autumn morn,
cover the lips forlorn?
Posted in Poetry

Misshapen and Unaligned

I can’t quite remember 
why did i choose the blue shoes
or the ragged jeans
that i have barely worn?

I scour my closet
to find a decent outfit
and ransack the piles of clothes
at the foot of my bed.

What becomes of a woman my age
who barely leaves the house?
I would much rather don pajamas
and surrender my self to endless nights alone.