Friday, November 25, 2022

The Object of My Affection

     
                                             ... below my kitchen window

                             ... a young whitetail / the object of my affection

                                                                           ... rubs his antlers on an empty apple tree



Painting: Jeanie Tomanek

Friday, October 21, 2022

The Potter's Presence

 
                                     ... on a hill overlooking the colorado / a black and white sherd

                       ... I hold it in my palm / feel the potter's presence

                                                                                ... their fingerprint pressed in clay




Sunday, September 11, 2022

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

Friday, September 2, 2022

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




Monday, August 29, 2022

Golden Glow


                      between the apple tree that's almost dead
                                                                                      
                      and the remains of the ramshackle shed

  

                                                   my mother's righteous golden glow



Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Practicing Eternity


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

practicing eternity




Saturday, July 16, 2022

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


                                                


Sunday, June 26, 2022

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

Friday, June 3, 2022

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

Monday, May 9, 2022

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

Thursday, May 5, 2022

Tuesday, March 29, 2022

Reading a Poem


                                                              reading a poem in an anthology

                                                              a poem that began with grandmothers

                                                              ringing the necks of chickens

                                                              and ending with sir isaac newton

                                                              sitting on a bed

                                                              I realized 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

Tuesday, March 8, 2022

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

                                             




Sunday, February 20, 2022

Songs of Spring


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

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

                                                                                                        ... songs of spring



Photographer unknown

Monday, February 7, 2022

Swans

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

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



Image: Polina Washington

Tuesday, December 7, 2021

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 both knew it wasn't true

                                                          but I read it as though it was




Saturday, October 30, 2021

Twilight

    
                                             ... twilight lingers in the treetops

                                                            memories float



Wednesday, October 13, 2021

Half Moon


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

                              ... half moon in a still blue sky



Image: Polina Washington

Tuesday, September 7, 2021

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




Tuesday, July 27, 2021

A Blue Bandana

 

                                          ... 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 bandana wrapped around your head

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

                                                                 ... on the turntable the sound of silence


Photographer unknown

Sunday, July 11, 2021

Wildflowers

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



Photograph: Marianne Majerus

Friday, April 23, 2021

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

Monday, March 22, 2021

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

Wednesday, March 17, 2021

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

Friday, February 19, 2021

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

Wednesday, February 3, 2021

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

Monday, December 14, 2020

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

Tuesday, December 1, 2020

December Moon

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




Written with Cletis L Stump

Sunday, November 15, 2020

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

Thursday, November 5, 2020

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)