Wednesday, May 30, 2012
White
Falling asleep to the scent of fresh wooden furniture. Waking up to the white country desk and white bed brightening the bedroom this dim early dawn hour.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Mattapoisett Day 1
Which flowers are these?
Was there a gate beside them?
Smelling of sugarcane and jasmine,
these fragrant pink blossoms.
Was there a gate beside them?
Smelling of sugarcane and jasmine,
these fragrant pink blossoms.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Desk Ornaments
Crafted with dream-pampered days,
the sleeping glass kitten, little muse,
beside a sugar bowl of pens
the sleeping glass kitten, little muse,
beside a sugar bowl of pens
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Sails
"Act without doing;
work without effort."
—Lao Tzu
We move through
the old country store
like gossamer sails
in the wind
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Surprise Blessings
I woke up in the night after having fallen asleep sick at seven pm. I stepped out of the bedroom into lamplight, and there on the kitchen ledge in a clear
glass vase was the loveliest pink rose. The cabinets were neatly replenished with food. In the refrigerator, a large container of chicken noodle soup, blueberry juice, yogurt, a couple of dinners, and other good things. Out again on the counter, the wooden rack with fresh bananas. When I woke
this morning, I admired the shape of the rose in low light and smiled again at the handwritten note beside the rose.
*
May you be well.
May you be happy.
May you feel loved.
*
May you be well.
May you be happy.
May you feel loved.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Landscapers
The lawn mower rumbles and sputters grass, is silent, and then rumbles again. Leaning over the frustrating machine, one man shouts to another en EspaƱol. Now the men are distant: chittering, playful songbirds and a melancholic owl calling are the only sounds. Returning now, the quiet rumble, and then the buzzing, roaring lawn mowers again. Afterward, the scent of dewy grass lingering all afternoon.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Paper Bag of Books
A white-haired man enters Barnes and Noble. He is lugging a paper bag filled with old books. He approaches the cafe tables, holds up each book, and in a gruff voice, announces its title to the screenwriters' group."Nope...nope...nope," the screenwriters say. "No?" he says. Frowning, he leaves them.
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