Patricia’s purple poppies, standing tall, standing sure. Never floppy, never false, just beauty… pure. I catch them— as I turn the bend. My jaunty friend trotting ahead, morning light, earlybird flight… and suddenly— there they are again. This is my crying time. Quiet time. Safe from the eyes of strangers. When sorrow drops heavy, theyContinue reading “Patricia’s Purple Poppies”
Tag Archives: poem
Summer’s Treason
Wally and I were halfway through our afternoon loop in the Dog Woods, ambling along the dappled trail where sunlight filtered through early spring leaves. It was one of those first truly warm days—when jackets feel unnecessary by mid-morning and the breeze carries not just birdsong but the scent of thawing soil, sun-warmed bark, andContinue reading “Summer’s Treason”
The Redheads Play Percussion
Up the grassy boulevardThe barren alders stretchTheir moss-hairy bone-limbs worn brittleBy Winter’s chilling breath. They reach out for rightingOf their perilous posture, leaning askanceAs if they stand a chanceagainst the mandate of gravity,against the burden of circumstance. In standing still upon inspection,A tap-tap-tapping! steals my attention.A woodland rapping, clear with intention.I spy a tiny drummer,Continue reading “The Redheads Play Percussion”