entire continents of grey-white clouds
hovering serenely in an enormous spring-blue sky
a soaring raven caws out of its element
why are you this far south, beautiful bird?
then all is quiet but for a distant plane
heading to who-knows-where—
what a gorgeous afternoon!
way too beautiful for negative thoughts—
listening to subtle sounds of nature’s energies
oooh, sudden chilly-breeze goosebumps
coolness swirling through sunlit seventy degrees
a day of awe and eerily silent excitement—
winter and spring overlapping at the seams
Galactic gathering
Standing in a silent still-dark February morning
Cool dewy grass grazes half-bare sandaled feet
Lo! Saturn arrives as Jupiter saddles Sagittarius
Mars burns red near the glowing crescent moon
Serpens slithers against a vaporous galaxy border
Antares winks green and gold, crimson and rust
As Scorpius swings its tail at the southern horizon
Libra starboard and upward of the crowded scene
Balancing askew over the poor impaled lone wolf
Ophiuchus a bystander in the busy celestial show
Blend & blur
Late winter and early spring blend and blur
in pleasant days and chilly nights,
penetrating sun and gentle cool breezes
with stirrings of life, subtle and green.
Mornings that light ever earlier rouse us, but
sunsets that still come in evening’s youth lull.
Desert winter departing
Early February in the desert—
The sun is springtime warmth
The breeze, winter’s leftovers
All kinds
tortoise clouds
barely crawling across the sky
hare clouds
drifting swiftly over our heads
chameleon clouds
changing every moment
borrowing colors from the sun
dragon clouds
breathing fire into the horizon
At two-fifty-nine
Prayer to the middle-of-the-night gods:
please let me sleep
thank you for the beautiful moon
and winter silence
but please let me fall back to sleep—
no offense.
Amen.
Daze in a rut
At a certain point, some of us just sit down and watch the rest of our lives go by.
Don’t let it happen to you!
A January day that lives forever
In my head —
I’ve tried a million
times to go back
to that day —
tried to change
my choices
begged a do-over
from the universe
I’ve crippled myself with
guilt
sorrow
thrashing the quicksand
sinking in
layers of grief
fighting a sticky web
trapped in
regret-regret-regret
I don’t even care about
my own
broken heart
I’m sorry
I broke yours
Memories shiver
Why does cold weather refresh old griefs?
More quiet for reflection?
Longer nights to lay awake?
Like citrus, grief is a winter fruit.
November storm
First cold-weather storm of the season
Yellow leaves flying off windy trees
Birds pecking out a last-minute snack
Sudden rain pelting shivering shrubs