Hornby Park: Alignment
Alignment
A favorite hiking destination of mine … quiet, usually secluded, except during hunting season, a great place to just listen and take everything in. Hornby Park.
Washing Dishes
29 April 2005
washing dishes
I light a few candles,
wafting scents of vanilla and lavender
smooth jazz on the stereo
soft and mellow
Turning on,
running cool, tepid, then hot
I settle the plunger in the hole
as I slowly fill you up
adding soap with a gentle squeeze
we settle into our routine,
start off with the little things,
like knives, forks, spoons
soaking in the heat …
before the water cools
we go through the motions,
plates, bowls, and cups …
pausing to rinse,
to breathe,
we air dry.
refilled, rejuvenated
we tackle the pots and pans
and go for the big finish
draining slowly —
messy residue left behind
wipe off the stove and countertops
and rinse the sink clean
satisfied —
a job well done,
until we’re hungry again.
and he wonders why
26 April 2005
… and he wonders why
“Beauty is only skin deep.” so you say,
if that’s true, I’d say you need thicker skin.
“Curves don’t make the woman.” you try to claim,
but why take a chance, too fat or too thin?
“You can’t judge a book by its cover.” right?
“What really counts is what’s on the inside.”
but some bargains should be kept out of sight,
even when it is almost closing time.
So, let me have just one more for the road,
something stronger to dull my loneliness.
No princess to rescue this princely toad,
another night home all alone I guess.
You’d think that someone as honest as I
would be rewarded for how hard I try.
Used to be
25 April 2005
Used to be
It used to be enough to walk hand in hand
beneath the ever-watchful eyes above
and by those stars we wished, we made our plans
too innocent to not believe in love.
It used to be enough to share our words
as we discovered we had so much to say
ignoring the cage like contented birds
who sing together, come whatever may.
It used to be enough to just be with you
to touch the silence where even words fail
forget for a moment life can be cruel
and two hearts joined in love can be so frail.
It used to be enough …
I climbed a tree
24 April 2005
I climbed a tree –
(it wasn’t quite as easy as I remembered
but I managed.)
I paused to catch my breath,
to slow my racing heartbeat,
to relax…
I sat on a branch –
one arm circling the trunk,
grasping a bit too tightly
as I fought the urge
to look down.
In the shifting wind, I caught
the scent of hemlock,
stronger, purer than
candles I burn
on quiet evenings alone.
Coaxed by music unheard by many,
the tree and I began to sway,
murmuring softly whispered secrets
only lovers share –
and we danced, until
I had to say goodbye.
Eight basic colors
24 April 2005
eight basic colors in a tray
a cup of water, paper, and a brush
imagination paints another Saturday
displaying each masterpiece with pride
telling my first stories without words
I wonder when that part of me died?
I’ve forgotten how to play
burdened by life’s seriousness
watercolors fade like stories unclaimed
Every year
24 April 2005
Every year
I watch and wait
anticipating the moment
Once again
I somehow missed
the greening of spring
Remembering Emily
22 April 2005
Remembering Emily
in solitude –
she explored so many worlds
and never ventured forth
in imitation –
I try to get alone
and hope
By the squeaky swing
22 April 2005
by the squeaky swing
that dangles from the elm,
a stone’s throw beyond
the weathered split-rail,
almost hidden beneath
neglected grass,
railroad tracks
leading nowhere.
