This Day

Cutting hydrangea in the 

Dark of the night sky, 

No light but 

Moonlight

They’re drying into late autumn

And how beautiful they are on the

Eve of my birthday. 

Peter brings me cut flowers 

And then I think

To also cut some holly

Brilliant 

Berries 

Red and disappearing as I turn

This way and that from and 

Into moonlight,

My fingers feeling the rough bark

Making my way to the place

Each stem grows away from

The branch before I clip

Tomorrow when the sky grows light

I’ll harvest more from this 

Bounteous patch of life that we tend, 

That we love, careful to give thanks,

And I might keep clipping, and 

Clipping, cutting and bringing in

Until the whole house is 

Filled with magic 

As the living, once living, 

Drying

Dying 

Take over every space,

Desiccating 

Petal and tendril, 

Still-supple living stem, her leaves

Crawling into the 

Corners and crevices, hooking

Into peeling plaster and uneven 

Floorboards—

Isn’t that the way life goes on,

Everywhere? 

Blooming, growing, surprising, 

Yearning, reaching, praying, balancing,

Accepting, praising and always, if we 

Give in, 

Lifting into light? 

Harvest Moon

I would like him to

Think, without thinking,

She smells like earth

The scent she always wears

I have all I can handle right now

And it’s powerful,

An Orenda, 

Everything is fine. 

Love

Washed in an early autumn rain, these 
Tears hot then 
Cold, coursing slick like old sorrows 
Arrowing down my cheeks into the 
Heart of my emotions, 

Flooding my way as I pick through 

What the whole cloth of my

Life feels like,

Rents and all, 

The fabric is stretched and 

Fraying, but it holds

Still, what will never resolve, because

Is doesn’t resolve, settles:

Tacit

Protected and

Preserved,

Honored,

A fine way through, although 

Not easy

I toss and turn the word over and over,

I let it settle, knitting into my

Bones, my

Breath and sinew, 

Tacit. 

Seeking resolution,

Because breath compels, 

Because the heart beats,

Time after time I 

Find I just don’t want anyone else 

And, I don’t want to be anywhere else.  

Here, in some hard-fought 

Fulsomeness, hard-won honesty, which is 

A powerful place to be, 

Scary and demanding,

I slip into a universe of tension 

I won’t relinquish,

Summoning steadiness, for the why of it

I’ll never know,

It just

Is.

JR6dnAjjOTE

It’s Just the Rain

I’ve been fallow, 

Lost in the angers, fears, un-understandables...

The own creative mine of me sleeping, 

Stunted and afraid. 

But as I flipped through a magazine tonight 

With unseeing eyes,

On a page, a rush of words,

Poesy, 

Perhaps reminding me some 

Way to better balance. 

Even a hard rain, though, 

Like in this moment, once

Familiar in the way of comfort

Now frightens me. 

And what is happening is 

Everywhere unimaginable 

Now, 

I do not know what to do 

With this

And so, and

So I will just let it be. 

He was a Friend of Mine

Where do you go?

Where do you go when things are

So outside comprehension? 

Maybe I just tend my garden,

Worry about my really old dog, but

He never stopped.

He tended. Thank you Frank.

Tend, actually, that’s all I can do. 

C’est sufficant

RIP and you rise. 

In memoriam Frank LaMere

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=JR6dnAjjOTE