
“It’s time to start living the life you’ve imagined.”
Henry James

“It’s time to start living the life you’ve imagined.”
Henry James

a frigid winter afternoon with sunny rays bouncing from glass buildings and the sounds of kids skating and of laughter
a dark morning at 5:00 am when the blankets are warm and the snow swirls outside and there is still time to cling to a tiny sliver of sleep
returning home from hours away, being greeted by a jumping and licking pup who looks alternately like a little lamb or a tiny baby bear cub
a warm hug and genuine love from the little boy turned young man i will set free to be grown and be good and be kind in this vast and wonderful world

this day had sunshine and
pink petals–
it had bees and
lemonade,
this day held great promise

in the blue hour of dusk
when the cold seeps deep
into my bones and into my pulsing heart–
the memory of your words float,
weightless, like crystal flakes
and frigid winds–
blinding me temporarily by frozen lashes

the glow and the gleam
and the tiny spirit sparks distilled,
separated,
independent from the whole
and yet integral to the complete picture

remembering the roses of summer–
of Guadalupe’s tears,
of easy walks on flat roads,
of laborers in low riders,
of a soft satin language
flooding dusty arroyos

the frozen field crunches and snaps
at my boots as i walk along a well-worn path–
the crows call to one another,
the smell of early winter fills the air

silvery steel indigo
pearlescent white
smokey charcoal grey
deep burnt umber
sparkling golden ochre

i dream of you
and wonder why i only see you when my eyes are closed,
when the fog is thick,
when the moon is high,
when the winds are cold
i dream of you

velvet
twine
rose petals
snow
watercolor paper
orange peel
ice cream
the pup’s fur
bark on a tree
soft blankets
oil pastels
white flour
sea glass
denim
a string of pearls