cobble path

cobble bricks make up so many

sidewalks and streets in Germany

The Netherlands and France

fascinating individual styles and tastes

in size, shape and composition

and patterns in which they are laid

flat often, but deliberately curved

to form a gutter for dirty water

down the middle of the street

plus the quiet, insistent action

of underlying tree roots makes it

important to watch your step

onboard fun

laughter with the skilled

and playful chef who closes

his eyes so i can’t see him

Include more text here to close out the blog, or just delete this box.

flexible strength

haiku

flexible strength yields

the path to the agreed goal

grips the objective

warm acceptance

when a husband tries to do a favor

no matter how wrong the offering

accept it with warm thanks

and praise for what is right

hugs, love and laughter

and he’s more likely to try again

delineation

from the airplane

countries appear to have distinct

patterns of farmland as though

of a class of patches in a family quilt

with colors generations have found

the comforting foundation of their view

on their lives

but mountain ranges, valley depths

streams, rivers and coastlines

keep their own identities

without regard for borders

would that we remember and respect

what nature gives as itself and try

to dominate only the little that we add

Norwegian coast and fjords

scoop-gouged by pebbles

entrapped by ice, dragged by gravity

granite mountains carved

into sharp-edged bowl fragments

enshrine stark glacial time 

chat over pear, hazelnut and gorgonzola salad

lunch overlooking the golf course

with beloved daughter and

creative son-in-law

always fun to be with

talking about family and boat-ramming

killer whales and wild bison unhappy

with people which reminds me

of how i feel about drivers who cut

me off in traffic

i leave for home feeling cherished

missing doe

haiku

whimpering within

fawn knows to remain silent

hidden long hours

blessed at my window

welcoming wild birds

with seed and tiny scraps of vegetables

in a wrought iron bowl up and away

from neighborhood cats and dogs

they come almost continuously

scrub and Steller’s jays, California quail

chickadees, wrens, robins, flickers

so many colors, shapes and personalities

a snowy owl preening on my fence

even eagles, osprey and turkey vultures

circling high above, probably drawn by my many voles as are cougar and

bobcats awesome in their sleek power

who reveal themselves seldom

so deer and even elk are comfortable

grazing my back yard

waiting to recover

a gentle day, not too hot, not too cold

enough sun to nurture the weeds

and the flowers, though they grow

more slowly and needing more care

i grit my teeth wanting to tend

the blooming iris and mow the too-

tall grass but i need to allow

myself to heal

i have experience in jumping

back into activity too soon

and long prolonging recovery

balance and poise

are not easy to achieve

siblings’ memories

our parents changed

in the eight years between

my birth and his

my sibs and i can never

write the same memoir

notes in the music of the spheres

dedicated to the Bells of the Cascades

to be an intricate part of a whole

to learn to be an individual note

varying in intensity and technique

no more and no less vital

to the music heard

than each other handbell rung or plucked

martellato-ed or malleted

important only as contributing

in its time and tone to the music

heard as aggregate ensemble

with each person, each bell contributor

enriching with skill and dedication

along with all the others to the harmony

of the song beyond ourselves

ringing meaning and joy in the entirety

of life before and after each of us

human that i am

again tripped over nothing

went down slow motion

unhurt but embarrassed

and frightened of how vulnerable

i am becoming

and how little i seem to be able

to heal what is wrong

human that i am

out of a gray-cloudy day

help and support sometimes come

from on gray-cloudy day or week

of rejection disappointment

and from unanticipated sources

from people who have touched my life

but not yet allowed me to reach to them

they give without assurance of return

and leave me, mouth open and trembling at their generosity

hair tumbled

hair tumbled atop her head

she looked a youth worn out

from last night’s fun

paying what she thought

was the price

little understanding

the true cost of indiscretion

Include more text here to close out the blog, or just delete this box.

hostile takeover

   and leaves one naked before it

loss before listen

quiet one’s smile

lost in the self-assurance

that he knows how things ought to be

point taken, he believes, as he listens

but his pre-judgement means

he never he never heard

what she tried to tell him

dash

wee carnations, baby’s breath delicate

in slender, white container set

on the flat stone with loved names

and lifetimes of struggle, dreams

pain and laughter given no more

than a dash between numbers

soft flowers in memory

of their gift of life

but proving too insubstantial

as the wind nudges it over

the water spills across letters

etched in stone

Include more text here to close out the blog, or just delete this box.

flatten that notion

privileged to watch the sun wander

across the horizon, going south

for the winter and north in spring

as well as overhead to mark the day

but i understand the concept

of earth wobble to crate the seasons

i twist my left fist toward my right

to grasp earth rotating on its axis

mental pictures help comprehend

when bare sight tells me the earth is flat

cq no longer reluctant

california quail no longer reluctant

to flutter up to feeding bowl

and large enough to not worry

about competition as she

fills it with her bulk and warns

off by the frantic flutter of her

question mark headpiece