
i looked everywhere for you,
and in the end–
you were exactly where i had left you
i looked everywhere for you,
and in the end–
you were exactly where i had left you
coffee and toast in the morning
mountain snow on a razor-crisp, cold day
pine needles in the rain
old books being opened against a warm, buttery light
puppies biting with tiny razor teeth and sweet milky breath
pink peonies and roses in a jam jar
rain fell in long sheets against the windows,
the sound of quacking ducks traveled on the rising mist,
hot tea sat cooling in a china cup,
while the dog slept on tattered blankets–
another day unraveled from the worn fabric of time
“Snowflakes are not made for solitude; each, with outflung arms, tangles and meshes with its neighbor; over time, they compress, become ice. But ice is mutable, even in the deepest cold. Inside a glacier, pressure and affinity will melt ice at temperatures far below freezing, so that two pieces, in contact with each other, melt and refreeze as one.”
from the book, Under a Pole Star by Stef Penney
she recognizes the shadows
i still remember all the things i’d like to forget
and often forget all the things i need to remember
this book: The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady by Edith Holden
jameson in a small glass
spring flowers on the counter
snow storms in the afternoon
this song: Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me (R&B version sung by Gladys Knight & the Pips)
mallards at the marsh
coffee with friends
the beauty of a grey day
is the hard, unforgiving, black edge
beauty is haunting
a photograph trips a memory
deep swells of longing overwhelm me
a cigarette is lit
coffee is sipped
the sun warms the backs of red-winged black birds as they fly across the water–
i hear the screech of a blue jay
and watch the sparrows flee the bench
the pup growls at a point in the distance
and i shield my tired eyes to get a better look