Wednesday, September 16, 2009


Leaves scattered
like runes on the sidewalk
portents, prophesies
glistening, serpentine ribbons
slug trails
telling of the past and
foretelling the fall to come.
And the little black squirrel
filling his belly
with scarlet dogwood berries
relishing this warm
September day.

September 15, 2009

Yes! There are dogwood berries. But look quick,
or they'll all be gone

Sunday, September 6, 2009

I hear someone's spoon

I hear someone’s spoon
clinking on a cereal bowl
craving sustenance
a teenager abroad in the night
stepping away from imming
looking out the window above the sink
into the velvety darkness
should be in bed
not quite done with homework
not quite done with life for the day
ready for more
and his mother’s upstairs
hoping that he gets it
and that it’s everything he hopes for.

January 31, 2008

For Arran, my 17 year old son
who left this week for France.