Dawn and Sunset


Released from sleep

body stirs…

waltzing away from factual dreams,

mind seeks something familiar.

Eyes open into present moment

without fragmentation; estranged

psyche splits into day and night.

Two separate entities fighting

physical confinement of a shared body.

Cells divide, connection snaps…

healing destruction falters.

Constant equinox between light and dark

ends and begins at dawn and sunset.




Low Tide Sunset


Splashing shoreward over sandbars

and around deeper pools,

we amble back to the sandy beach

wrapped in pink and apricot.

Terns and gulls seek nesting sites;

their night calls diminish in distance.

Breeze ripples standing water,

brine shrimp tickle feet,

air currents tease hair and clothing…

stars stream into August’s azure canopy.

Beach blankets trap body heat;

salted evening chill increases as sun drops.

Beach grass draws lines around hummocks;

leaning back into cooling dunes,

the immense universe opens above.

Snuggled between parents,

we wish on falling stars…

night descends with a wave lullaby.






We are all trudging through

some sort of muck…

just don’t get mired down in it.

Easier to say when you’re not neck deep.

It’s too late for galoshes, hip waders or scuba gear

when naked and crawling through filth.

Worse yet, the toughest soap can’t clean it off.

I miss my mother…

she’d say, after you’re fifty life makes more sense.

Well it does and doesn’t,

I miss our talks…

talking things out,

there wasn’t a need for galoshes, hip waders or scuba gear.




Maya Angelou My mother’s gifts of courage to me were both large and small. The latter are woven so subtly into the fabric of my psyche, I can hardly distinguish where she stops and I begin.




Digging into the warming spring soil,

I put down new ideas just beneath the surface.

Relying on unpredictable weather,

there is great need for warmth and water.

Sick of gray thoughts and chilled emotions,

optimal therapy requires basking in sun rays.

Risky business trusting seasonal escapades;

putting faith into Universal contradictions,

I mutter encouragement to life force encapsulated

in protective shell or miniscule seedling starts.

Seeds patted into place complete one raised bed;

Delicate roots as fine as spider webbing get tucked

into another raised bed; dirt beneath the nails,

a sure sign that a gardener has properly prepared

substrate laced with compost, lime and blood meal…




“The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff.” Carl Sagan