she is rusty, worn, tired—
and still,
beautiful
Rusty
Tag Archives: writing
Lately
tulips and roses and hot pink carnations,
books and puzzles and jars of fig honey,
gnomes and unicorns and blue lava lamps
Joy
joy can be found in unexpected places
Morning Fog
the sun rose, wrapped tightly within the silence of the morning fog
Excerpt from: Floriography
The gentle and whimsical blooms of the dogwood tree look delicate, but the wood of its trunk is strong and durable. Victorian lovers used this flower to indicate that their love could endure any trial.
from Floriography: An Illustrated Guide to the Victorian Language of Flowers by Jessica Roux
Beautiful Green Things
soft, green velvet
and sparkling emeralds,
deep green glass,
and thick forest landscapes,
leaves and trees and seeds,
and petals made of mystical jade,
fine, long feathers and
rolling fields of fragrant sage
Unlearning
“My focus, as I get older—is unlearning.”
A line from a recent conversation from my dear, wise friend.
Excerpt from: Birds of America
An exquisite cup, less than two inches across, of felted plant, fern or dandelion-seed down, covered so perfectly with moss and lichens and fastened with spider webs as to appear a mere protuberance on the limb, and lined with a layer of the finest down.
from Birds of America, 1936 – Garden City Publishing Company, Inc.
Mended
what is broken, may be mended
Lately
marbles and crystals,
oak tree shadows on an unmade bed,
snow drops and snow flakes
and red velvet cupcakes
on a happy winter afternoon
spanishwoods 