moments

moments

Thursday, February 2, 2023

 



often it's untidy and broken things that call our names

it's fine to want to fix things, but sometimes the worn

weathered are reminders of where it is we come from

and how it is we are moving through this wild world

one foot touching the earth, dragging the other behind

 grayness presses itself against a morning sky and hearts

and all things soften and spread, and you can only say

beautiful before you begin again the search for treasures

xo







Thursday, December 1, 2022

Tuesday, November 1, 2022


November 1, 2022


who am I do suggest piñóns, romaine lettuce, blueberries are simple foods
who am I to ingest the seeds of the very trees that raised me
and the berries that grew me wild
I know I am blessed
I know I am
blessed
xo


 

Wednesday, August 31, 2022



SHINE

Shine was her name.
She wore it well.


Most say she didn't stay long enough, but I know better.
Gramma Annie told me we each come into this world with a certain number of heartbeats.
Use 'em up, she told me when I was almost too young to understand, but now I do: I use them hard and fast. I ride my heart like an untamed filly; a long wild mane circles the sky. 
I carry sugar cubes in my pockets. I paw the earth to know its rumble. xo

 



Sunday, July 31, 2022

 


some things about summer are so spectacular

colors in the bright sun & the shadows at dusk

birds waking me in song at four in the morning

long days filled with time and temptations

 short nights & wild dreams I hope come true


xo






Wednesday, June 1, 2022


Seeing in while looking out, is that it?
Standing at my kitchen window 
I hear song and bells. 
See the light. Wonder at faith. 
I hold unseen love against my bones
and unpolished granite stone.
A narrow path takes me where I want to go
and trees hang over the way. 
There are flowers and weeds: 
The weeds don't know the difference.
Nor do the lilies. I am still learning. 


xo





 

Monday, April 25, 2022





Hold on for dear life 
my grandmother, Annie 
said to me, but not just me
me: hanging by a thread
up a creek, no paddle
with the last straw
in the spur of a moment
eating my words
for a new lease on life
a real piece of work
with a pie-eating grin
singing la de da!!

xo