raccoons in midnight trees
flowers on tables
beautiful places and rambling thoughts
dark books and burning candles
morning sun rays wake the day
Tag Archives: life
Long After
her tiny hand let go, and you drifted away—
higher and higher, with the wind and the clouds coming between where we stood and where you floated;
unanchored, weightless, blameless—the morning sun blinded her as she looked for you long after you had disappeared
The Evening Sun
the evening sun gently reminds us
that everything comes to a close
Thinking about things as I wandered the halls of a museum
Summer Days
hot summer days with the early morning sun shining through leaves and petals — making shadows on the walls like paintings on canvas, like unconscious meditations
the hazy noon lull creeps upon us — a listless veil of drowsy breezes caresses our afternoon nap-time dreams
the evening closes late, a holiday dive-bar atmosphere of abandon — another summer day locked up tight, slips softly from the present, right into the past
A Bowl
her mind holds stories and silent spaces—
an alabaster sarcophagus, a bowl of sacred secrets
Early Summer at My House
Excerpt from this book: Middlemarch
He distrusted her affection; and what loneliness is more lonely than distrust?
Excerpt from Middlemarch, by George Elliot, 1871 &1872
You
Late Spring
cardinals coming and going—flying through the slats on the little side porch, eating at the feeder, drinking in the fountain
a single peony shimmering in the morning sun
cups of orange spice tea on cool nights
family gatherings with pineapple popsicles
glasses of deep red wine into the night
cool linen sheets for afternoon naps























