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Posts Tagged ‘compassion’

only this moment

eight o’clock

sunday, april 24, 2011

the daylight almost gone

my window

half glass

half mirror

face floating in the cedar

bedpost in the fern

chandelier hangs from budding branches

dusk dark lines

sprawling up

against the lambent sky

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cut pink tulips
your gift
strong stems
slipped slowly into

my sliver vase

spiraling green sword
leaves
five days after

stems pulling water
overextended reaching
still growing
twisting towards April light

pale petals
opening, revealing
gesture gently
tips flushed
blushing crimson

soft kiss of spring

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not knowing if i could depend on anyone else
i took up the power drill myself
to fix the rack in my
closet

after all
i’m the only one who
can fix my own heart

it’s easy to leave it
broken like the closet rack
hanging precariously
unable to sustain weight

but the sun is out
and i got email
– you thought of me from so far
away and long ago –
so i replaced what was broken with a new part

ten thousand memories flooding as

i pack up my winter clothes
take out my summer clothes
thirteen times

now this last time
in my house
up for sale

each time the same, but slightly different
i know i’m older each year
april calls for spring

 

what if i cast off anything worn or broken
extraneous
half my high-heeled shoes depart
keeping only what works
will i change

will it be easier to walk

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february morning

sunday rain
a week’s worth
of snow
unfixed
loosened and
unleashed
waves of
washing water

 

i get wet

 

Saturday march 12 2011

9:30 am
day-light savings time’s
overcast belies
a higher angle
unseen sun’s occluded
brightness

hope of oncoming spring

I see blue crocus in winter’s leavings

life renewed

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red light rain
late winter afternoon gray
me feeling
drained from the day

i remember
last evening
my house
our attentions aligned
your gift
bottle of red zinfandel wine
green olives
white cheese
tasted
together

now knowing
alone
our
unraveled edges need
constraining
head and heart
patient
restraining

taking time
for
convalescence’s
cure

shifting on green
world through a scrim
rain and remembrance
image of our parting embrace

what is it like
for you

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my mother’s needles
hold memories
her
now two years passed on
i learn to purl

under over
knit  purl
i move these knots
casting on and off in patterns newly understood
imagined

staying up late
stitching
fabricating
inheriting yarns

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invited to the waltz
stopped in my tracks by doubt
unused to these shoes

i don’t remember where
to put my hands
or how to dance

how do i recall
what seems completely new

guide me by texture
double-breasted wool suit
pressed
lightly into silk blouse
high heels
now knowingly glide

room rounds as
we
others
tables dishes napkins glasses bottles
chairs coats handbags
all
musicians singers performers

flow
one living thing
under the
tent
in the warm electric night

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