the fog rested on the breath of the morning air–
lingering in dusty corners of gauzy dreams
Fog
Tag Archives: trees
Excerpt from the book: Smile
“And so I’ve grown to love the syllables in the word maybe. Today my head is full of maybes. Maybe healing is not linear. Maybe there is no one health care savior but many patient practitioners. Maybe the long haul is longer than anticipated. Maybe, a nap is in order. Maybe writing down your story helps. “
from the book, Smile by Sarah Ruhl, 2021
After the Rain
after the rain, we contemplate the early morning fog and the lushness of the leaves and the pungent smell of the earth
Lately
sunsets on the water
friends and wine and cheese and grapes
faerie doors in the forest
paints and pencils and books and coffees
The Sun
Excerpt from: French Braid
“Marriages have stages. They have incarnations, almost,” Mercy explains. “You can be in a good marriage and you can be in a bad marriage, and they can both be the same one but just at different times.”
from French Braid, by Anne Tyler, 2022
Morning Fog
the sun rose, wrapped tightly within the silence of the morning fog
Winter Through the Window in March
at first, it is heavy winter
and then it is lightly not winter–
lasting a tiny moment, allowing the crocuses and the snowdrops
to sing their siren songs of spring,
knowing all the while—
it will be winter through the window in March again
Morning Light
she writes poems with her eyes closed
in the darkness of the night,
but the words escape her memory
with the early-morning light
Lately
puppies in the snow
cold winter landscapes
greys and blues and soft amber horizons
spanishwoods 