When at the crossroads,
turning past,
I’ll leave behind
what I loved best,
missing such wonders as:
little soft hands;
potted herbs on
the window sill;
the smell of wet
clothing hanging out
to dry in the gracious sun;
the color blue;
chocolate and hot
scented baths;
that half wake/sleep
state when the world
is dreamy and soft;
sunsets over the pacific;
poached salmon with dill;
walking barefoot;
a cool breeze;
swimming naked
in the Delaware
on a summer night;
a glass of wine, hard bread
and a good book
sitting in the evening cool;
the blaze of Autumn
in the Endless Mountains
and the taste of downy snow
melting on my tongue;
folk music;
children’s arms wrapped
around my neck
and the powdery
smell of their skin;
crying at a good movie,
feeling all the pain;
Christmas preparations,
candles and pine.
Moments captured like
the flicker of fire-flies,
tiny points of light
that together
paint a life.

– Previously Published 1993

new life

a different kind of pearl

Hard dusty brown earth
spattered with the glacier’s
pushcart of rock makes
it difficult to sow my seedlings;

Sunflowers climbing out
peat pots beg for the breeze
as Cosmos delicately bend
toward the window’s smile.

Pearls of life planted
by a child’s delicate hands
with expectation and dreams
of a color and light.

– previously published 1993

Seed pots