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Hands
Hands Guiding, shaping holding on, letting go supportive, frail My hands stretch out sometimes to catch, sometimes to wave goodbye, watching the soul take flight into the huge, never ending sky. Veins of my grandmother, who I loved very much I would play with them as a child, fascinated by the way they would wiggle…
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July 1st 2019
Another summer is finally here And with it the smell of campfire My children shriek As they run around Gangs of kids on bikes In twos, and threes, and fours They play until the sun falls behind the water if we would only allow it And grumble at bedtime Even though it’s hours after their…
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Hidden Mystery
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Flowers in the Foyer
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Grandmother
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Old wives
A woman’s work is never done Or so the story goes Always one more thing to do Before her eyes can close With work, home, and everything It never seems to stop Just when you climb one mountain You can see another top Sometimes I’d like to float away On a raft, alone, in the…
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February 13th
Another cold week has set into my bones so deeply that this morning, when I went outside to start my car I thought it was warm at first. I went as far to tell my husband that he probably didn’t need to start the car then I checked the temperature and realized warmer to me…
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February 13th
Another cold week has set into my bones so deeply that this morning, when I went outside to start my car I thought it was warm at first. I went as far to tell my husband that he probably didn’t need to start the car then I checked the temperature and realized warmer to me…
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Monday the fourth
Another Monday morning rush; little hands, little faces, so many little things to do. I packed the night before, hoping it would help us arrive sooner at the door. In a way, it did, or would have except of course I forgot that Monday itself would likely continue to be busy. Although the lunches were…