At the Back of the Field

                                              ... at the back of the field / under a canopy of green

                        ... the beekeeper's hives

                                       ... the busyness of making life a little sweeter

Painting: Joy Laforme

Cows

 
                                            along the highway that passes through my childhood

                                            cows crowd the fence line 

 

                                            their brown bodies, white faces / shining in the tall grass

                                            I don't know why they've made me so happy

                                            I can't stop smiling

Photographer Unknown

Golden Glow

                      between the apple tree that's almost dead

                                                                                      

                      and the remains of the ramshackle shed

  

                                                   my mother's righteous golden glow

Practicing Eternity

... across the everpresent sky / two swans in twilight

practicing eternity

The Photo

                                                          I used to feel guilty having the photo

 

                                                          The one you sent your brother from boot camp

                                                 Your note to him on the back

                                                 He handed it to me on your front porch

                                                 The summer before he died

                                                 Insisted I have it

                                                   

                                                 Now you're gone too

                                                          And the photo?

                                                          It's where it was meant to be

                                                          I think he knew that when he gave it to me

                                                

The White Pine

                                          ... white pine of my childhood / you travel the highway of night

                        ... to where I stand on my porch / still listening

Photograph by Chris Perry

The Marsh

                                                        driving by a childhood marsh

                                                        a red winged blackbird flits from reed to reed 

                                                        nothing's diminished / nothing remains

Image by Jamie Heiden

The Feather

 
                       ... I picked up a feather in my yard

                                                              ... and as I carried it to the house it talked to me

                                 ... told me it didn't want to be in my collection on the porch

                                                                           ... but with those inside the house / on my bookshelf

                                            ... where it now quietly resides

Photograph by Peter James

The Summer of Love

... inside the peony's fragile heart / the summer of love

My photo

Reading a Poem

                                                              reading a poem in an anthology

                                                              a poem that begins with grandmothers

                                                              ringing the necks of chickens

                                                              and ends with sir isaac newton

                                                              sitting on a bed

                                                              I realize I'd skipped a page

                                                              read two poems as one

                                                              and that my friends is poetry

                                                              sometimes you end up 

                                                              in a place wholly unexpected

Art by Rodney Hatfield

Messages

 

                                               some days you'd call just to share something                                 

                                               a poem, a song, a story from your childhood

                                               the atacama desert's annual rainfall

                                               there are days I still drive down my road 

                                               wondering if you've called

                                               your message blinking out into the universe

                                             

Songs of Spring

                                                ... in the crab apple tree ... cardinals / hoarfrost letting go

                            ... beyond the ice broken river ... coyotes

                                                                                                        ... songs of spring

Photographer unknown

Swans

 
                         ... along the riverbank / sunlit swans asleep in the snow

                                                                                    ... I hope they know how much I love them

Image: Polina Washington

The Week Before

   
                                                          the week before he died

                                                          he called and asked if I'd read him a poem

                                                          the poem I'd sent in a message the night before

                                                          the one that says, "no one you love is dying"

                                                          we knew it wasn't true

                                                          but I read it as though it was

Twilight

    
                                             ... twilight lingers in the treetops

                                                            memories float

Half Moon

 ... what I've forgotten / what I remember

                              ... half moon in a still blue sky

Image: Polina Washington

Familiar Back Roads

an old song on the radio

takes me down familiar back roads

to where you once lived

but your house has been torn down 

the mailbox is gone / the driveway, overgrown

only the gate remains

across the road 

on the far side of the pond

two swans drift

A Blue Bandanna

 

                                          ... wandering in and out of each other's lives

                       ... the years turn into decades

                                                                  ... until one of us is gone, the other left remembering 

                                         ... you lean back on your elbow, blue bandanna wrapped around your head

                       ... I sit cross legged in a long cotton dress 

                                                                 ... on the stereo, the sound of silence 

Photographer unknown

Wildflowers

   
                              ... up and down old river road wildflowers waving in the summer wind

Photograph: Marianne Majerus

Nothing But Light

                                                    

                      ... from the meadow to the fence line / I follow the faint trace of our old path                

     

                      ... in place of your absence / nothing but light

Photograph by Alvar Astulez

Things We Choose to Keep

                                       ... things we choose to keep

                                                                                ... the pillow case that bears his scent

                            ... the empty glass still on the nightstand

                                                            ... a brush that holds some wisps of hair / the myth of hope

Image by Polina Washington

Listening to the Rain

   
                                                          ... it's been a year today

                        ... I step into the greenhouse

                                                  ... stand quietly / listen to the rain

Written with Cletis L Stump

Originally posted here: https://latenightfootfalls.tumblr.com/post/63924231967/its-been-a-year-today-i-step-into-the

Photographer unknown

Sleeping In the City

 
                                                        sometimes, I think I'd like to sleep in the city

                                                        our bedroom high above a busy street 

                                                        a steady stream of car lights

                                                        a little grocery on the corner

                                                        another world inside this one, where you and  I

                                                        spend some quiet time, remembering

Photograph: https://twitter.com/cxlvg

Degas and His Dancers

                                                   in a tin once filled with chocolates

                                                   degas and his dancers on the lid

                                                   scissors / sewing needles / spools of thread

                                                   a small orange box that held a pair of earrings

                                                   moonstones set in silver

                                                   and a book of matches

                                                   where I wrote down this memory

      

                      

Painting by Edgar Degas

I'm Still There

 

                                                              twenty miles from where I live now

                                                              my childhood home

                                                              I'm still there / my four year old self

                                                              on the porch steps sitting in sunlight

                                                              dressing my reluctant cat in doll clothes

Photograph by Evan Leavitt

December Moon

                       ... december moon / sleepy owl in the wild plum trees




Written with Cletis L Stump

Originally posted here:  https://latenightfootfalls.tumblr.com/post/70600705933 

Winter Coming On

                                            

                                                 maybe it's this stage of life

                                                 or maybe it's just winter coming on

  

                                                                                ... the comforting sound of the river

               

 

Photographer unknown

Heading Home

                                        ... crescent moon

                        on a winter road 
       
                                                          ... heading home



Written with Cletis L Stump  

In Memory of Cletis  (November 5, 1948 - August 1, 2020)

Originally posted here: https://latenightfootfalls.tumblr.com/post/73636850802/crescent-moon-on-a-winter

Edge of the Meadow

                       ... taking the chenille cover from the bed / she moves to the edge of the meadow

         ... bare skin in autumn sunlight / blue eyes locked on blue sky

                                                                                                ... horses by the fence line



Written with Cletis L Stump

Originally posted here: https://latenightfootfalls.tumblr.com/post/64780250928

Photograph by Cynthia Fleury

First Snowfall

 

                                     ... resting on the roof of the birdhouse / the first snowfall

                                                 ... on the perch outside the entrance a small mound balances in the wind

                           ... inside, the emptiness grows

Photographer unknown