fort

seaweed flag flying
fifth grade boys proclaim
WE WERE HERE

camp

a blazing fire
52 voices singing as one
a moment they'll never forget

glasses

taking my glasses off as I walk, the world is muted, soft, and blurry around the edges. like it is. not sharp and clear and in focus, like i would like it to be. i resolve to walk this way more often to train in seeing. 

octogenarian

beehive hairdo
boxy beige caddy
movie star sunglasses
what will i look like
when i am 80?

leaf

a leaf on the sidewalk catches my eye; i walk on.
stop.
go back; pick it up.
sunny-side-up yellow,
turns to spring-grass-green,
turns to compost-dirt-black.
the story of a life, in a leaf.

~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~      
Happy Birthday to my second-born today. Here is a small stone I wrote about him.

walk

on my walk the air is cool and damp. i smell something sweet and verdant. looking around i see a lone honey bee, searching for a last sip of summer.

softer

early evening sky
tinged with pink
softens the world
like rose-colored glasses

sky blue

driving to the airport, i look up and see a sky the exact color of its crayon namesake
not light blue or pale blue or baby blue...sky blue

goodbye

chalk drawings on the sidewalk fading away, as summer does too

black top hat

oddly out of place in broad daylight
makes the day seem an occasion to celebrate

my toenails

freshly painted, "I'm not just a waitress" red
sparkle and delight!

kites-

hundreds of them
hover in the air
like a swarm of insects

otherworldly

the sky so blue
and cloudless
it looks unreal

the pacific is not pristine

in westport, wa
but still beautiful
sand, surf and seaweed mingle
with planks and plastic
it's nature, without nuture

the full moon

obscured behind clouds of pink and grey
still has its effect

baseball aviary

we are watching a baseball game
when all of a sudden doves are sweeping through the stadium
dozens of them
flying all around,
swooping, diving, taking over
unaware of what is going on below them
and unconcerned

the night sky explodes with color

black, blue, yellow, pink
ahs! and oohs! at every turn

it's been years

since i lay on the grass
watching the clouds go by
looking for shapes
noticing textures
feeling the movement
i could stay here forever

a harried man

carries a crying baby in one hand
so tiny and thin he must be a newborn
(his scrawny, dangling legs remind me of my son's when he was born)

in the other hand, a poopy diaper
he walks with determination and exhaustion
to the garbage can
i watch with a mixture of sympathy and terror
i remember those days

a black cat sits in a window

--framed, meditating.
i stop and stare for a moment
he turns to me as if to say,
"what are you looking at?"
then returns to his practice