Here the leaves were left to stay in shimmers underneath the trees. In mounds of gold brighter than day their autumn simmers on its way to winter's gray finality. The poet: "Nothing gold can stay," and now I see the leaves face down. But all their stems reach up stick straight like small arms raised… Continue reading Pear Trees II: Nothing Gold Can Last
Month: December 2019
Only in San Diego
it tapped at my memory two-stepped on my brain galloped on the rooftop sprinted down a drain sometimes a calliope other times a train seeped into my nightmare dallied with my dream hammered on the skylight pushed me to a scream until i figured what it was i might be hearing rain then it seemed… Continue reading Only in San Diego
Gift from a Garden of Verses
"The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings." Robert Louis Stevenson, 1885 from "A Child's Garden of Verses" A scrap of verse, no more than a smile— and yet it lingers in my mind--- a little girl in a backwoods home in the… Continue reading Gift from a Garden of Verses
Old Seamstress in Bangkok
The tendons in her hands are creased as the sharp pleats in a paper fan, her fingers bent as a red king crab. Again and again she pushes the silk under the foot of a sewing machine until it flows on the other side sleek as an emerald waterfall. Outside, quiet river boats slip across… Continue reading Old Seamstress in Bangkok
Gift from a Song Sparrow
Perhaps I tend to brood, to overthink a sparrow dying on the glass today— though l admit it took my breath away to find his stiffened body on the deck. But perhaps he was a gift from the sky— an emissary dressed in sparrow brown with broken neck and feet curling down but an urgent… Continue reading Gift from a Song Sparrow