Category: Belonging / Loneliness
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Dream #1051
beach cottage dream salt air beauty sunrise walk walk until tired turn around walk back, again juxtaposed meditation against a tired voice that complains all the way home about never learning how to moderate this lonely life 3-20-21
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how I became a poet
When I was in fourth grade they tried to teach me violin but I was called a sissy I put down my case and fought When I was seventh grade I wanted to play French horn but trombones were cheaper I knew all the troublemakers and band secrets I’d laugh and would not snitch When…
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Sitting with M.C.
“…..let us then try to climb the mountain, not by stepping on what is below us, but to pull us up by what is above us…..” M.C. Escher M.C. and I sit between hemispheres, Discuss whether we are descending or ascending. Is the floor a ceiling or just a floor? Hands reach out from chests…
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morning mantra
On the distant side of the park you hear voices talking; you do not understand what is said; it is only important that on the distant side of the park you hear voices talking; you do not understand what is said; it is only important that on the distant side of the park you hear…
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handful of tercets
in the woods by the pond high up in a tree lone bird calls alone three notes repeatedly does it call for love for a friend or just to hear its voice piercing tercets reaching out again and again and again in the woods by the pond high up in a tree 1-3-21
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a dilatory poet
COVID inactivity feeds me morsels of delay walk in the park enjoy another coffee break recycle cardboard sweep the porch rake leaves in mounds the city will haul away add fallen sticks to tinder pile dead branch above my head sword of Damocles hangs upon a horse hair thread 12-18-20
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Rainy day
Rain in yard, coffee on porch, Friend on phone Says hello, how are you? We talk of family, of health, Of vaccines, Grandiose post-COVID plans Last leaves launch in air In seven days Write fears on paper Consign in Solstice fire Happy Hanukkah Merry Christmas, and Kwanza, too 12-14-20
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Pandemic coffee in a blue cup
A mute yellow sign stands near the street in a neighbor’s yard signaling SLOW in black letters. You sip coffee from a blue cup as friends drive by and wave on their way to work, the grocery or anywhere, but here. The old couple with a corgi, call good morning from the park. With only…
My husband's poetry 