knowing (part three)

you inherited the chive patch
picked blossoms fail to seed
saving you time later from unwanted guests -so

fill a jar with rice vinegar
bathe the purple buds
in time, pink flows

covering life in marinade
saucy joy splashes high
above the growing grass
menial tasks put off another day.

Mob Haiku: Dissedmas Carol

Now that I have totally washed out all the season’s hope…

Bookem Jan comes to the rescue, to bring you a laugh.

Jan’s haikus in my feed bring me a chuckle every morning. Then I turn around and feel blue. I have been here before, have come through the mist, so i won’t worry. Until then…

Bookem Jan will cure your ills. Or at least i hope so. Go read her!! Thanks.

More than ordinary

all this blue-sits indoors-meaning to hide-the brighter doors…lift your eyes-another soul resides-smiles, says hi.

Norm’s Doors 2.0

Ascend (a photo challenge)


I would love to know what squirrels think, when they see a person walk by, who suddenly stops when they hear their chatter above; stop, dig, reach in, snap, stare and stare and stare. Move along… For any length of time, no doubt, that squirrel is surveying an escape route. But you must question why the squirrel said anything to begin with, if he did not want company?

Not to worry, I did not ascend that tree.


Life on Monhegan

just a taste … brought us, me, back to life.

The cold breath

of wintering hearts. Over.

I miss Monhegan Island. If I could fly, sewn feathers -tightly worn…

Instead, I sit

Dream -a


I did not meet Judith Pontura. Her book, stacked on a store shelf. The lady, behind the register, well, I asked her, had Judith signed any books? She had. A signature tucked away, book behind the counter. I bought it. I like to see the handwriting on the wall.

I opened the pages -again this morning. And an address, a P.O. Box with 04852 zip code. A name attached. Judith. Now Weber. Was this her? Had the cash-register lady given me her address? How, days pass. We forget the impact, never notice an island sprawled all over the desk. Mapped out-meticulously.

You remind me. Smell.

Monhegan May 2016



There is joy in our tears
when Christ appears.
Jesus calms the waves.

Don’t battle the world
with words hurled.
They are not ready to hear.

Follow me
to Calvary.
Carry your cross for them.

There is joy in our tears
when Christ appears.
All is well again.

The storm in your heart
will depart.
Strength will rise today.

Follow me
to Calvary.
Carry your cross for them.©

Comfort and Joy

Silence of a frigid, mid-western night
wonder of life
bustling festivities overwhelm the heart
I will remember you in prayer.

Beloved are gone
years ago
come to a semblance of comfort and joy.

Warmth of the hearth
keep the thoughts of home.©


Does it matter

Does it matter
if he made it to heaven?
The road
was long and curves
were sharp. He was thrown off
a cliff or two.
I choose to believe.

I was lost
the woods stark,
the hill high,
awesome beauty cut cold.
I heard the news.
Iced tears
blocking the sparkle of our
His comfort fading.©


I don’t want to be heard


I wish I had nothing to say
because that means
the world is perfect
without my ramblings
about love and hope and joy
and evil that lurks
in dark corners of the world!

I wish I had nothing to say
so I could
listen to music
to soothe me through
the day
as a car rolls up and down
the hills
of rural America!

I wish I had nothing to say.
I waste away
wishing and hoping and praying that
that some day was here
so I could finally be silent.