Wednesday, November 22, 2017

140 bags

More for Diane.

And now
140 bags
Have been picked up
By Amvets.
The house gets
A new roof
In the morning sun.
There is something
This clarity.
We hear the voices
Of those who wield
The hammers,
Hope they finish
Before tomorrow:
The children arrive tonight
To cook dinner
Has many faces.

Monday, November 20, 2017

Giant pines

 For Diane.

She died,
The next door neighbor
We barely knew.
We didn’t know her
At all.
The next door neighbor
Who stayed inside
(We think)
She went
To get groceries,
Locked herself
Front and back,
Never answered the door.
She died.
The giant pines remain.
She refused
To have them trimmed.
Her nephew told us
We could trim
Whatever we wanted.
We may leave them
In her memory.

Sunday, November 19, 2017

Sheep pajamas, wolf slippers

Both were Christmas presents, different years. They go together, make me feel good especially when I wear them together. 

Sheep pajamas
Wolf slippers
Go together.
They remind me
I can’t have one
The other.
Both were gifts
From my beloved.
He knows me.
Sheep and wolves
Sometimes they share
Sometimes they take turns.
There is no telling
Which is which.
They trade the fields.
They hide behind trees.
Wolf slippers
Sheep pajamas

Wednesday, November 15, 2017


An interesting word ...brave.

Only others
Are declared
It is not something
We claim
For ourselves:
Like faithful
Like courageous
Like loving
Like righteous.
Brave is only
For others,
In shining armor,
Those who ride
Into battle,
Without a care about
What will happen
On the other side.
Much may happen,
So much may happen
We know it
When we declare it
Of others
When they ride
Into battle.
It is only
For others.

Monday, November 13, 2017

So many decisions

It's important to start small.

Now that we decide
To stay,
A whole other
Set of decisions
Appear before us.
What are
The particular
Bird feeders
We require?
Do we need
A heated bird bath,
A hummingbird feeder
So the hummingbirds return
Year after year?
Do we need
More pink plastic
For the backyard?
So many decisions.

Sunday, November 12, 2017


I wish we knew what happened. Moved? Died? We keep waiting to see the nephew to ask, It seems the dumpsters are loaded at night.

Our neighbor
Has disappeared.
We knew her
By her first name.
She never asked for ours.
We cleared her driveway,
Her sidewalk
Of snow
In the winter,
Except the winter
I was in the hospital.
Then she asked
If we had been
On vacation.
Two dumpsters
Have been loaded
Carted off.
She has disappeared.
We do not know
The story

Friday, November 10, 2017

I like the short

Reading Emily Dickinson I realize how much I appreciate her short three-liners. They speak to me. Hope is the thing with feathers.

I get lost
When a poem
Is too long.
I take it
In bits and pieces
Or not at all.
This is the reason
For rhyme
This is the reason
Even for one word
At a time.
I get lost
I prefer
to be found