Frost Bites

Frigid fingertips

Cherry red nose

Toes ache

Bitter cold eats layers

Gorging itself into cellular depths

Past oxygenated blood pumping sluggishly

Carrying wavering warmth to extremities

Fingers burn and cramp

Numb eyes sting

Organs wane tepid

Heart rhythm softens

Cell after cell crystalizes

Sleep descends

Frozen in time…

It’s not a bad death.                                               12/5/2013



Without Movement

Watching the kids play –

Running, jumping, climbing, sliding….

Even when their age,

She watched her classmates play.

Too shy to ask to join them,

She’d hang back


Always watching…

If it was an organized game,

Of course,

She was picked last.


At home,

She climbed trees, helped garden,

Did chores and rode her bike;

At Grammy’s cottage,

She fished, rowed the boat, swam.

In winter,

There was ice skating and sledding…


It was better to alone.

Walking in the woods,

Her cat was a watcher too.                                     12/6/2013



Abracadabra didn’t invest the pen

With anything resembling my intention

Of cornering the gist of this day.

Maybe my inflection was off…

Or speculating that it wouldn’t work,

Doubt cancelled out any reasonable response.

My voice often seems lost among others

Whose resonance vibrates the air around them.

Inhalation, second try… wait didn’t

Peter Pan have to think happy thoughts?

Maybe magic needs happy thoughts too.

Writing is basted in a consummate mixture

Of weary hope, tormented scenarios, grief but

Joy comes in sight if you know your dreams…

12/10/2013  Inspiration: Jim Harrison said: “Life is sentimental. Why should I be cold and hard about it? That’s the main content. The biggest thing in people’s lives is their loves and dreams and visions, you know.” And he said: “To write a poem you must first create a pen that will write what you want to say. For better or worse, this is the work of a lifetime.”

The solstice comes…

Light the candles

Brighten the darkest night

Kiss winter’s start

With song and joyous dance


Sing out

Call to earth and sun

Call to moon and stars

Sing in the darkest night


Songs awaken hope

Celebrate renewal

Life stirs in the stillness

Imperceptible rustling


Waiting patiently

Incremental light returns

Spinning orb will tilt

Cycling the next season


Rising out of dark days

Spring’s sweet songs

Are just beyond our keen…

Rest well                        12/20/2013


No one is too old for fairytales…

She kept telling friends and family;

Laughing was the normal response

But she believed.

In the night shadows –

Fairies, goblins, elves, trolls,

Dwarves, giants, merfolk, and gnomes…

That was their time.

A time of crossover

Slipping in between realities,

They cast about their magic and enchantments

As if in their own time and place.

One’s perception, if attuned,

Could feel their presence,

Catch a glimpse of movement,

Or even hear snippets of conversation…

Even her cats and dog sensed them.

Her skin prickled at times…

She knew which natural areas to avoid

But she also knew what herbs and perennials to plant.

Healing botanicals, salves, and tonics were left

In a hollow trunk the other side of the hedge row.

All year long she faithfully replaced the diminished supply.

Little pebbles, seeds, feathers –

Gifts of natural world were often left behind…

Rubbish said the family of her treasure box.

Nothing deterred her ministrations to the other world

Until age and health brought her close to death.

A walking dream brought her to another realm

where age never matters and her medicinal skills were needed.   12/23/2013


Winter Fog

Fog wanders down the street

Diffusing the clear lamplight.

Fingers of chill seek entry

Through cracks and crevices.

Leg warmers in lieu of extra cats

Plus the baggy flannel nightgown

Will help hold body heat beneath cold covers.


Cats are creeping about from shrub to shrub

Or in and out of gilded shadows.

Fur fluffed to hold body heat,

They relish their night play without

A care about anything but chase-chase.


Turning, sharp hearing discerns the door opening.

Having decided that cat warmth is needed,

A familiar voice calls and clicks to them.


Maybe a warm quilt is better

Than winter’s frigid adventures…

Tails stick straight up as lithe bodies slip inside.                       12/26/2013



The Christmas tree has lost its enthusiasm;

Dry needles turn yellow and trickle to the floor.

Cats wrestle beneath lowest branches

Sending ornaments flying, slipping bead trim

Closer to the floor, and raining down more needles.

The simulated candle string lights cantilever at odd angles

Forgetting their proper posture among the branches.

Even the angel lists as if she’s had enough holiday.

The dreaded task of undoing another Christmas

Has arrived loaded with past memories and a few new ones.

Each ornament is admired, wrapped and placed into storage.

Next season these memories [most of them fond] will return

when selecting the new tree, sawing the end, pushing the base

into the tree stand and properly decorating this cherished symbol.

Admiring its soft glow, the evergreen scent will fill the house

Till the dreaded task of undoing another jaundiced Christmas arrives.                    12/30/2013