I will clear them out, The jar of olives that you kept Just behind the mustard that was Far too spicy for my palate. And the bleu cheese dressing that You used to toss the salad with Before you served it even though You knew I liked French better. Here’s one more can of Mr. [...]
Archive for the ‘Writers Island’ Category
Kitchen Therapy
Posted in poetry, Sunday Scribblings, Writers Island on February 8, 2008 | 35 Comments »
On Mystery and Wonder
Posted in poetry, Writers Island on November 6, 2007 | 6 Comments »
Last year a hummingbird rested in my trembling hands for ten eternal minutes until it looked me in the eye, in farewell, I like to think, and winged away into the black. And to this day I feel its minute talons grip my thumb, sense the darting of its feathered head beneath the shelter of [...]
Where Others Were
Posted in poetry, Writers Island on October 30, 2007 | 15 Comments »
What are hauntings but sense-memories of lonely buildings once filled with the sounds of children’s laughter and lovers’ sighs and the wails of the bereaved? I hang my photos on walls marked by the painted-over ghosts of holes where other nails once bore the weight of other pictures, long since taken down. Is it not [...]
As the Drylands Burn
Posted in poetry, Writers Island on October 23, 2007 | 12 Comments »
The last time around we watched the sky and waited, knowing we were likely out of the danger zone but feeling restless anyway – winds can change, you know. The sunset was too orange. The smoldering mountains bore down on our hearts, the northern sky was dark, the acrid air caught in the backs of [...]
To the Heart of It (II)
Posted in poetry, Writers Island on October 9, 2007 | 11 Comments »
-~-~-~-~-~-~ Even during a drought the morning dew glistens after a hard night’s passing. So I will choose to trust that one day in this wasteland the rains will fall again. And until then I’ll wait holding my worn and weary old heart in readiness for the day when he’ll come home. Until then [...]
On Travel
Posted in poetry, Writers Island on October 2, 2007 | 4 Comments »
Some people loved flying, some driving, some boating or biking or running but she loved the clickety-clack journey of the railways, loved how she could feel every mile bump-bump-bump beneath her as she watched it scroll past the picture windows while she ate a pleasant meal with real plates and glasses in the old-fashioned dining [...]
Of House and Home
Posted in poetry, Writers Island on September 24, 2007 | 13 Comments »
She wouldn’t open that door again, would no longer climb those stairs, nor lean out of those dormer windows to smell the fragrant lilac blossoms on the branches that waved their welcome to her every spring afternoon when she arrived home from school and flung the leaded casement open wide so that she could drink [...]
The Gift
Posted in poetry, Writers Island on September 17, 2007 | 12 Comments »
She asked him what he wanted as a reward for work well done and his eyes lit up as he told her – a red pencil. Small child, so broken already, he hid under his desk when he was sad, at least three times a day lately, but she could always make him smile every [...]
Visitations
Posted in poetry, Writers Island on September 11, 2007 | 13 Comments »
Show me the richness of lives never lived, places never visited, adventures only imagined. Give me a morning spent half-dreaming still of a land where horses speak and houses roll place to place on the whim of the wind, perhaps. Oh grant me a lazy afternoon with friends I’ll never meet, whose lives unfold in [...]
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