Other Writing

Memoir

After the Snow

After the snow, the wind quiets and the light fades. A deepening cold hastens my footsteps. I pass the brook where a layer of ice mutes its murmuring and gaze at the darken windows of my father’s house. Is he sleeping, tucked warm under old quilts?

A key rests in my pocket. I’ll unlock […]

Strawberry Fields Forever?

Recently, I opened a Flickr file of photos, developed from forgotten negatives recently discovered in my mother’s basement closet. Childhood memories spilled out, especially one evoked by a photo of myself sitting on a fence post by a farmer’s field. It was 1956 and the summer sun had descended towards distant trees on the western […]

By The Pond

Like many authors, nature inspires my writing. As I sit by my pond on a warm May day, I note the chickadees flitting in the cedars, the cat bird gathering twigs for her nest, and the male wren singing his heart out to attract a mate. Last week a mallard duck swam peacefully on the pond, snacking on the weed below his paddlin[…]

Poetry

Morning in March

When sleep will not stretch
‘til morning, I slip downstairs
and wait for dawn to drift over
the horizon.

As usual, the cats are up,
wanting to be fed, while the dog snores
in his crate, even when I open the door.
He’s old and…

Letting Go the Garden

Goodbye, good riddance!
I’ve tended you long enough.
My patience is worn thin,
like your scraggly cucumber vines
and withered onion stalks.

Can’t you hear the jays screech
my aggravation while goldfinch
flit behind my back and empty…

Uplift

Beyond the kitchen window,
a western sky darkens to dusk.
My nose drips raw into
a sink of soapy water and
a day of dirty dishes.
Gloom settles on my shoulders
like a suffocating cloak,
a black hole swallowing light.
From the pond, out of sight,

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