the lilac light seeps into twilight dreams—
a velveteen cape, a basket of plums, a violet crystal,
lavender stalks swaying in foreign fields
Purple Thoughts
Tag Archives: thoughts
In the Blue Morning
early, in the blue morning,
with a dusting of wet snow
and bitter wind,
the crows make their way from their roost—
their cacophony of sound traveling on the falling,
thick flakes, from a height that renders them small black specks that i struggled to see, beyond the iciness that clung to my lashes
Lately: in my head
memories of flowers — paper whites in a window, elegant, tall gladiolas, dried roses in a wooden bowl
this song: You’re No Good, the Linda Ronstadt version
these words: petrichor (thank you Brian) and elysian
black horses in my dreams, wild dogs, the woods and snow clouds
the sound of a relentless rain on a sleepless night
winter, spring, summer and fall sunsets — how different they look and how different they feel
Black Winged Woman
she is a black winged woman
once a virgin, then a maiden, now a crone—
large, formidable, standing in black velvet platform boots,
wind at her back—
no white horses arriving today
no promises of peaceful doves and candy rainbows,
a window to a haunted past
and a hail storm future—
she is one woman,
but she is all the women
of her midnight-caped clan—
flying, diving, surviving—
thriving
Far and Near
there are times when we search far
and discover what we needed was in fact—
near
You Have Been Here
you have been here,
left your mark
that the rain and the wind will wash away—
but how very beautiful
it was
Two Thoughts
thought number 1:
how many more days will the bee have to land on Dahlias this fall?
thought number 2:
how many more days will she have to watch the bees land on Dahlias in the fall?
Excerpt from Thoreau
After a rain-threatening morning it is a beautiful Indian summer day, the most remarkable hitherto and equal to any of the kind. Yet we kept fires in the forenoon, the warmth not having got into the house. It is akin to sin to spend such a day in the house.
from The Journal 1837-1861 by Henry David Thoreau
Closer
closer and closer
until you are trapped
until you are wrapped
until life has seeped from your body
desiccated
dry
dead
Lately
watercolor studies
pumpkins and gourds
cider donuts
visits with old friends
Concierto de Aranjuez by Rodrigo on repeat
English detective shows
a book about the Borgias
and prowling foxes in the night
spanishwoods 