.
after the storm
crossing drenched streets
in squishy galoshes
.
.
after the storm
crossing drenched streets
in squishy galoshes
.
.
morning rain —
fallen golden leaves
decorate the lawn
.
.
.
COVID masks
don’t filter hateful words
always hanging
in midair
.
moonlight
slipping through storm clouds —
the sound of winter winds
.
.
nipping the edge
of the weather report
winter’s frozen teeth
.
.
multicolored smiles —
asleep on the couch
our best man
covered with helium balloons
.
.
42 years today
we sealed our forever bond —
happy anni, love
🙂
.
.
after the storm
water drenched streets
crossing
in squishy galoshes
.
.
squirrels
fly through the air
bouncing
tree to tree
.
.
alone again
no tinsel no ornaments
no tree
only heaven’s star
.
.
.
.
* childhood memories *
–
too warm to snow
but one year the elfs brought
just enough
for a snowgirl
🙂
.
.
Christmas tree lot —
snow on evergreens
stays frozen
even in the heat
v2
Christmas tree lot —
“Bring winter in your home!
Natural spray-on snow!”
.
.
How do I love thee?
I love thee past the ends of time
I love thee forevermore
.
.
dark winter night
endless rain
taps
against
the
windowpane
.
.
drinking coffee at 5 a.m.
waiting
for the skylight to shine
.
.
not quite autumn
not quite winter
the house temp always
not quite
.
.
ancient weathered fence
boards all warped with age
snails crawl in and out
.
.
unseen
that final sunset
feeling you
follow it
.
.
mourning
–
touching you
your final breath
I knew
the instant
you were gone
— 032419 836pm .
.
.
holiday weekend
the gift of silence —
no clanging garbage bins
.
.
evening rain
between the drops
silence
.
.
.
a two-year-old’s grief —
“I’m too big now to sit
in daddy’s lap.”
😦
.
.
desk haiku —
on polished oak
creating the movememt
of words
.
.
rainy days
a widow’s grief —
wearing your jacket
longing for your touch
.
.
midnight rain
pounds the skylights —
storm clouds hang
in ebony skies
.
.
the midnight sky
a sea of stars
feeling you
beside me again
.
.
autumn picnic —
underneath the table
the sound of rain
.
.
raindrop clouds
the artist’s hand —
water splashing
sidewalks
streets
.
.
on love
tiptoeing around
the edges of grief —
I see my husband’s soul
shining now
with billions
and billions
of stars
.
.
crumpled
daddy’s old flannel shirt —
kitty curled fast asleep
.
.
school pencils
shavings of lead —
forecast rain
the charcoal grey sky
.
.
.
.
surrounded by fog
sudden streaks of sunlight
cross afternoon haze
.
.
overcast morning
dark grey clouds and thunder
threaten pouring rain
.
.
all a sailor’s knots
my soul
living without you
.
.
wet icy fingers
caress my face —
shivering
lost in the fog
.
.
hidden by fog
dark storms creep in . . .
cold December nights
.
.
waiting for the first frost —
emerald lawns
turned icy white
.