Cleaning out closets and desk drawers,
memories piled deep on the floor,
boxes of paper
are brought to the fire
with the satisfaction of flame
burning away years
of struggle.

Rising from the ash
a new idea

of self
of future
of now.

Beloved children, coming to terms with change
with tears and unnamed presumptions
then tentatively beginning
to ask
the right questions.

I release the past

and present my heart
with a new sign –



June evening 2 2013

The garden has gone feral,
briar and bind weed rise
over violets rampant with deep green hearts-
swords of hardy dandelions
wave in triumph.

Wild with heavy shadow and leaf,
the woods spill
across the wet summer meadow.
Late summer grasses
wave verdant and strong
as young men in springtime.

Hayfields green.
ready for third harvest-
sighs of scythes
echo across the meadow.

summer breeze

Sweet peas

The morning breeze sifts the daylight
from the trees,
bits of shadow and light
cascade in the wind-
floss and golden-
softening the edges of summer.

Wisps of silvered web
spill from the cedar boughs-
night spinning spiders weave
moonlight into morning.

Even so, the stillness belies the rotation
of summer to autumn –
the light gleams across the dappled path
all the way to fall.