Sunday, January 8, 2012

First Day Poem

Sky
Low clouds
A slight wind
A cool morning
There's not much traffic
On Sunday it's quiet,
Before I go to Meeting
I stop by the local cafe
For some good coffee to start my day --
The barrista is proud of her figure,
We have known each other for a lot of years,
We check in with each other on our hopes and fears,
Then I sit down at a table and sip my coffee,
Conversing with some strangers before I go on my way.

Friday, January 6, 2012

Field of Time

Cold
Winter
The First Month
Holiday cheer
Starts to disappear
Gifts have been put away
Routines have resumed their place
Schedules have a more steady pace
The children have returned to their schools
With brand new clothes so that they can feel cool
Slowly Neptune traverses ecliptic space
A desert rabbit gazes fondly at the moon
A widow in a church senses the presence of grace

Winter Weekend

Blue sky
Cold day
Strong wind
Kids play

Thursday, January 5, 2012

The Morning Fix (It's OK, It's Legal)

The line at Starbuck's Cafe
Waits patiently for caffeine,
It comes in various forms;
Coffee or tea (black or green)

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Last Round

Darkness falls thickly
On the nearly empty street
Some stragglers stagger
After the last round of drinks,
Going their separate ways

Monday, January 2, 2012

Bleak

The depths of winter
Even in the afternoon
The tenacious frost
Your total lack of empathy
In all the rooms of the house

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Winter Sweater

The winter sweater
And the January cold
And a few blankets

A new boyfriend for dinner;
Maybe he's the one I'll love

The far-away stars,
Are they so indifferent?,
Do they shine for us?

The bar's Saturday line dance;
Clap, stomp and turn to the beat

Harvesting the grapes
There's the rush before the crush
And anxious owners

The warm October sunrise
Kids getting ready for school

Sparrows in the grass,
At the sight of a shadow,
Hide in the hedges

A pause in the silent house
As she soaks in the quiet

The window rattles
But just for a few seconds
A sudden May wind

The branches filter the light
Of a moon that's nearly full

"What was the question?"
The t.v. is much too loud
For conversation

Hidden behind the garage
Cascading lilacs bloom