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EARTH MOTHER
In so many mythologies earth is a woman, a mother, and we arise from within her. The pure and simple logic of this assumption cannot be assailed, for she is the crux of all nature, and as it seems in life, it is all too often the males that lay siege and wage wars that…
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ALOFT
As a child I often flew kites, which is to say that I ran haphazardly pulling a string and dragging a wood frames paper rhombus across the park. My father laughed until seeing me on the edge of tears he took up the string and dragged the kite across the park. One day a strong…
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THE DAY AFTER*
Today we only speak silently and know everyone hears. Today we cry only dry tears, and others gently wipe our eyes. Today we mourn what we fear is lost and together vow to retain it. Today the sun shines less brightly and we know the dark cloud will eventually pass. Today we hug, each to…
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ON THIS DAY
For on this day there is no peace, for on this day some are laid to rest, for on this day others shed endless tears, for on this day many are wringing hands, for on this day many offer hollow words, for on this day they know they should act for on this day they…
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IN LOVING MEMORY (17 this time)
Just what will the puppet king say or will he simply run and hide as we are left to mourn and pray Seventeen more are dead today, we know better than to abide just what will the puppet king say more hollow words, for which they pay “only more guns can stem the tide.” As…
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THE SPACE BETWEEN
The space between want and need is at once a vast gulf and the width of the hair, much the same as that separating luck and greed. It is only in the eyes mind that the gap is insurmountable and we give up hope that those who live in the land of wants will…
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MOURNING ASCENDANT
When they lowered my grandmother’s casket into the sodden earth, there wasn’t a dry eye or shoulder, or leg around. Sophie would have gotten a good laugh, her children always too busy for a visit getting soaked to the skin, in a cold, windy downpour, all but me, the one she chose to conduct the…
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FOR THIS MOMENT
The sea is calm today not the petulant child thrashing at the harbor leaving her stone tears in the sands. Perhaps it is the sun stroking her dappled skin or perhaps she is merely listening to the whispers of clouds sliding off into the horizon. We don’t question the sea, that is for Jonahs, and…
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BAREFOOT
He says his favorite clouds all wear size seven shoes. He knows she believes she once saw a paisley rainbow and will never forget it. She wears size seven shoes and her tears can be torrential, yet they can still nurture the first flowers of spring. He imagines her a butterfly sitting on the back…
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an old writer and his words 