Tag: #iphone photos
-
Broken or not? At snack time or lunch, that was a favorite game of my daughters. One would hold up an apple slice or a Ritz cracker or shiny orange Clementine and demand of the other, “Broken or not?” They were both pretty masterful at holding a broken cracker or piece of fruit in such…
-
That voice Sinking into my gut like a spire into a low sky it walks with me, or used to— maybe that’s why I learned to walk so fast, shins burning hot uphill, it always beat me… until I learned not to hear.
-
Another 7×7 poem (seven lines, seven syllables per line.) This one inspired by endings—of seasons, of eras. MarcescenceSometimes we hold on too hard;cling to what should be released—old, winter-worn, transparentfrom time and weather, rattled,beaten, tattered— it’s hard tolet the familiar fallaway, let new growth emerge Note: Marcescence is a botanical term that refers to trees…
-
I haven’t had time to write this week, but I walked in the (last?) snow of the season. The sky was flat and bright, like an impossibly bright light table. I forgot my sunglasses and found myself squinting. There was a hush, so quiet, it seemed like a Sunday morning. But the birds were singing…
-
This is the first blog post I’ve written straight into the chute without a little polishing. I’m frazzled. I’m moving. I’m selling a house I lived in for almost 2 decades, a house I had a wonderful family life in. I’ve been packing up and purging and sorting for months now. And now it’s almost…
-
Another 7×7 poem February Sunset Heater blasting hottest air seat warmer radiating— knuckles whiten on the wheel as Neptune’s tail lashes hard; it is three degrees below— my heart catches fire watching this sunset through driving snow.
-
Working one day, alone in my tower—er, office—I listened to Loreena McKennett singing “The Lady of Shallot” (lyrics from Tennyson’s poem) and it struck me how the good Lady and I have more than a few things in common. We even share a first name— she’s based on the Arthurian legend of Elaine. Modern technology…
-
I recently heard Pauletta Hansel, a wonderful Cincinnati poet, read some of her work. A series she read introduced me to a form I’d never heard of before: the 7 x 7, also known as a “49-er” by some. The form is simple, 7 syllables per line, 7 lines. I really loved how her 7x7s…
-
To the churning of the world How my brain flares as I dream of you, electric spark illuminating songbirds fast asleep, hidden in branches dark a single egg met a particular sperm in warm depths and became you a miracle like every seed sprouting green from the loam now your eyes widen at the whispered…
-
From Rebecca Solnit’s essay called “Woolfe’s Darkness, Embracing the Inexplicable” found in her book, Men Explain Things to Me. “Feeling emotional upheaval is not a spiritual faux pas; it’s the place where the warrior learns compassion.” –Pema Chödrön, From The Places That Scare You “When it is dark enough, you can see the…
eeo 