despite

her wondrous laughter

telling of family gathering

honoring their loss

befriend us

rare the times when we are gentle with ourselves

seeing each other as worthy or respect and forgiveness

we seldom admit we, too, may be given

the honor of being seen for who we are

croaking of spring

unsung, it struggles early

to lift through soil, mulch of dead leaves

glistening frost to prick at winter

with slender green point

which pushes itself upright

unfolds as yellow, pink or purple-blue

crocus

unknowing

unknowing

how much we don’t know we don’t know

how frightening to get caught up

in situations that assume we understand

but we do not

blessed are those who have friends

or loved ones near to help us learn

what is needful

do nothing

work behind the scenes

is the hardest to justify

to those who have never

been so charged

do not know the effort

thought and care involved

and take for granted

rare publisher

i met our publisher in lunch and joyous conversation

Charles Portolano has reached out and given

to so many of our Writers in the Grove

in print in his beautiful The Avocet nature poetry quarterly chapbooks

and on-line in his weekly collections

Charles, our feisty and insightful “Sicilian from New York”

has created a unique attitude in the publishing world

by deliberately fostering community among poets

recognizing needs and finding ways to give special attention

where he knows it would not come naturally

it is my privilege to know Charles in person, now, too

            mjNordgren  2/24/2022  Scottsdale, Arizona

layers of desert color

hillside layered colors

hillside layered colors: beige, brown, gray

red-orange streaked with salt or gypsum white

sparkling with mica

now tinted green with spring’s intrepid coming of life

each layer years centuries, millennia, eons deep

most horizontal, some tilted from vertical as though whole

mountains were heaved upward awkwardly

another spring season in the succession of time

so vast it is beyond my comprehension

      mjNordgren  2/22/2022  Scottsdale, Arizona 

Calico Hills, Red Rock Canyon, Nevada

watercolor on paper, mjN Feb. 2022

red rock canyon

red rock canyon, nevada

 wild burro nibbling on scant gray-green

among unkempt cacti

in front of layered mountains, tumble-textured rises

and calico hills vibrant with orange, beige

gypsum white, scab-blood, iron red

grizzled brown, dotted green

and haunted by startling, deep-shadow black

 mj

sibilant sounds

shepherding

shifting

shadowing

slithering

shushing

silence

Reader comments: “Ooew! Conjures up all kinds of images…delinitely feelings.”

“I really like thisssss”

blame un-game

wrestling with pique over restrictions

and weariness of exile

mumbling, fretting, whining among ourselves

deciding we are put upon and liking victimhood

we attack

but who - in a pandemic - deserves to be blamed?

love in abundance

ah, the love in abundance

in this family

generation upon generation giving in support

through tough times

traveling inconvenient miles in difficult conditions

to be there when needed

to see the hurting re-created in warmth

and laughter

(im)balance

(im)balance

balance—so easy when young,

strong and unscarred

by the tricks and tempests

by which life distorts us

and once twisted

how difficult to move

with ease and grace

of mind or body

old age should be venerated

not ridiculed for its off-balance quirks

if only to acknowledge the pain endured

to be able to function at all

                                    mjNordgren  2/2/2022  N

ebony morning

ebony morning

as dawn’s colors

struggle to seep and ooze

between dark clouds

to allow the beginning

of our day

no longer quite ebony

the western hills of Portland and Cascade Range as i look east

rain in darkness

heart-drumming rain

confides the terror

of its fall

to the metal roof

oddly comforting

the sleepy people below

on the hedge

we seldom risk it all'

“Only bet what you can afford to lose!” seems good advice

until the moment comes we must decide who and what we are

will a sneak suffice? or will it bring us down in our own estimation

for the rest of our lives?

we are forced to look again at what we can afford to lose:

ourselves

*

Readers Comment: “WOW! Pray we take the time and have the wisdom to make best choices.” SA Oregon

unpacific storm

 wrathful waters

gray-green writhings

spouting white anger

in a beauty not to be touched

only witnessed from safe shore

Readers Comments: “I can feel the intense wind and spray coming ashore.” “I love the beauty of a stormy sea.” “I reread and LOVE this - except that it is SO Pacific, to be unpacific.” “Visiting the Oregon coast, were you? Great phraseology, MaryJane!” “You use words beautifully”

Readers’ Comments

Regarding mj’sNewsletter Vol 2 #1 January 2022

F.B., South Carolina: “I enjoyed you latest Newletter. We share a common interest in nature, among other things. Peace, joy and love.”

S.A., Oregon: “Wonderful newsletter, MaryJane! I loved all the birds featured, and the tender-heartedly touched by Home Tour. God bless you & yours now and forever!”

quiet times of healing

quiet times of healing

seem to take away

from life

so much to be done

so many deadlines missed

so many ‘ought to’s

so many ‘need to’s

so much busy-ness

it is difficult to recognize

true priorities

and allow ourselves to hear

the still, small voice

mutual admiration

The old story of the boy

teased about his many freckles

grandma hugged him, saying

“Do you know what I like best? Freckles!”

Grinning widely, he answered

“Do you know what I like best?

Wrinkles.”

country dweller

“Weren’t you afraid?”

the city man asked

i squinted, trying to remember

”No, not afraid. Awed.

I smiled and whispered

to him, ‘You are beautiful,’

and the bobcat, not twenty

feet from me, preened. He

knew I was an admirer, not

an enemy.”

not the first or last time

i’ve seen a wild creature

eye-to-eye