Tag: Life

Angels on a Misty Shore

She walks with angels on a misty shore.The morning is damp and cold, but she does not feel it.As the frost smoke rises over the glassy lake, she stops, reflecting.At that moment, a magnificent large mouth bass escapes the water, breaking the silence.Its powerful…

Music in D(eath) for Lost Souls

He plays the music calling lost souls who wander from life to lifeThese pitiful beings who can never seem to get living quite right They return to earth over and over, to learn what they didn’t beforeTraveling the treacherous seven seas, searching every windswept…

The Fine Art of Aging

Some days these fingers ache when holding my writing lead or perhaps it’s my soul keening, wallowing in woe, How much more must a heart spill with words in black repose Does not your fingers bleed when grasping too tight the memory of the…

My Mother, A Rose

Burnished veil of gossamer light floats into the ancient garden come bright morning’s dawn Venus blushes with the single rose

In This House

In this house, in these rooms, there’s so much of you   A wooden bottle you once honed, with a note inside for me

Shadorma Sunday: Bloom

Time is that mysterious lull

This Blessed Room

This room, blessed with undeniable energy… I write to lilting music of fishes swimming in a castled world Lovebirds feeding outside the window, chattering their secret language Sun refracts through a suspended prism, as rainbows dance on pale pink walls And there on one,…

Haibun: The Walk

These days, it’s a short walk at best. After the attack, he nor I much care for venturing too far from home. At first, when the memory stayed with him, he would go out, do his business immediately, and then want to return home….

Ceres and The Horn of Plenty

Come taste my gifts said Ceres for I have the horn of plenty to savor, Buttery gourds, ripe tomatoes, sweet golden ears of corn All grown from my fertile breast, a profusion of interesting flavors

Penance

The tick, tick, ticking clock resounds off the walls of the tiny room, reminding her each second she is alone. It’s always the same, she awakens, moves to the window and sits. Waiting.

Slipping

The scent of earth after a gentle rain Memories washed in shades of autumn’s gold Tempers the black grief, relieves the harsh pain Seasons changing leaves once brilliant yet cold

Drifting Time

Time, so precious here and now in the winter of my life as I ponder what I’ve done and what I’ll leave behind

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