“Smells good, what are you baking?”
“Beads.”
“Are you the plain biscuit?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
Two Conversations
Tag Archives: photography
Try a Little Kindness
If you see your brother standing by the road
With a heavy load from the seeds he sowed
And if you see your sister falling by the way
Just stop and say you’re goin’ the wrong way
You’ve got to try a little kindness yes show a little kindness
Yes shine your light for everyone to see
And if you’ll try a little kindness and you’ll overlook the blindness
Of the narrow minded people on the narrow minded streets
From the song Try a Little Kindess written by Curt Sapaugh and Bobby Austin and recorded by Glen Campbell, 1969
Fate
awakening from a bad dream,
she tries to recover,
but finds she cannot shed
fate’s suffocating verdict
Wings
sometimes i hear
your fluttering wings
whisper beside
the rising fog
Petals
the years appear to pass slowly when we are very young
and as we age, their pace quickens,
chunks of time float like icebergs,
melting into cold grey waters,
sailing gracefully and not so gracefully
one at a time–
as brittle petals fly into the late evening breeze,
toward the setting sun of autumn
Haunted
she lay her thoughts aside,
like a chapter at rest in an open book–
spine cracked,
pages dog-eared,
passages underlined and memorized–
shadows of a haunted epilogue
Inconsistent
“They’ve never stopped telling me I’m inconsistent. They couldn’t have said anything more flattering.” –Edouard Manet
Recently
The Samurai’s Garden by Gail Tsukiyama
candles that smell like apples
chocolate brioche
sleeping with the windows open
Gold Dust by Tori Amos
peppermint tea
long streaks of sun
a room of mannequins
yellow crysanthemums
three butterflies
a canadian dime
artful trivets
warm pumpkin soup
the kindness of strangers
The Door
i wanted to run my hand across the grain,
lay my head on your cool metal,
and will centuries of secrets straight into my pulsing heart
Pennsylvania
our eyes travel along the edges of your rolling hills,
across soft, emerald fields,
alongside small homesteads filled with golden,
straw-colored dreams and clear streams of enchanted river songs
spanishwoods 