- The header art is a detail from one of a series of paintings called "The Quilted Fields of Provence."
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Tag Archives: Poetry
Notice: Our spacecraft are not weaponized. But our young men are armed–against each other. Therefore, do not wear our disguise. That would have side effects. Which is a side effect, life, or death? Bring answers. You will leave with doubts. … Continue reading
“Till summer folds her miracle…when sacrament is done” Emily Dickinson, Poem #342 Chalice after chalice opened day after day Until autumn crocus filled and faded. That holy season closed with their benediction. Blessed be the smaller celebrations of winter camellia … Continue reading
In the cold time of short days and longest nights evergreens preen proudly in wraps of needle green, while humbler trees’ branches, unclothed until spring, bear chill. Then snow in its pity shawls them with white as it quilts and … Continue reading
Spendthrift autumn dances, winds tossing the bright coin of trees in her wake. Leaves—red, golden, brown–curl dry, caught where shrubs meet earth, huddle near roots. Rain softens spent leaves. Frugal winter hoards autumn’s debris in root cellars, stocks those cold … Continue reading
Queen of Nightmares, I wake bedmate and myself with cries for “Help!” Whoever remembers why? On peaceful nights I simply mutter but a friendly pat and matter-of-fact “You’re dreaming out loud” settles me. My bedmate sleep-mutters too. I listen carefully, … Continue reading