Break through

She looks out across the lawn to the garden bed barren after winter’s biting bitterness. “Break through”, she encourages the perennials, imagining their seeds cracking open, green growth sprouting from their dark crustiness at the heart of their being, pushing up through the soil toward the light of the sun, into the warmth of spring, so that she could see them come alive. As if carried on a breeze whispering through the trees, she realizes she is talking to herself. 

already holding hope for spring so tightly…

Summer’s Departure

Summer’s Departure 

Tap, tap, tap…the rain caresses 
the skylight glass. Its tender touch
dances with the roof before I notice the 
plop, plop, plopping on the earth outside. 
Like drowsiness upon waking, 
the pitter patter muffles 
through the double panes and insulation. 

With summer’s departure, my bones 
are brittling. The Harvest moon already came 
& lit up the night sky. The frost on the grass 
has given her warning.  My thick cotton sweater & 
warm wool socks wrap me 
in a reassuring hug. 

I sit on the leather chair in the living room,
my feet propped on the ottoman.
The spruce tree outside 
the window sways in autumn’s 
wind, her limbs dancing with
gratitude at earth’s saturation. 

The coffee with its chocolaty beans 
and velvety cream is rich as it moves 
through me, saving me from thoughts 
of winter’s arrival, bringing me to 
now, where I am
warm and soft as a blanket. 

I wrote this poem in the early fall of 2020. This year we are having record warmth and summer is lingering, although I know it will not be long before the words of this poem are truth again.

a song of escape

shoveling snow at home in Iowa
 a song of escape
 hat-covered heads and booted feet
 parka-wrapped people shoveling snow
 the neighborhood working in unison
 the panting of their breath visible song
 a song of escape
 a song with a tropical beat
 a song featuring heads under straw sombreros
 feet melting in soft sand
 the sun bathing half-naked bodies in light
 in warmth, wonderful heat,
 a song that becomes the sound of the sea
 gazes face the salty rocks
 out to where the whales while away the day
 to the straight line of the horizon
 miles away 

Another poem from what I’ve decided to call my Gathering at the Sea collection, written while on holiday in San Agustinillo, Mexico in January 2021. You can find other poems from my little collection previously posted here:


The Ocean

little shell