Slowly Rolling into the Cold

Getting ready
for winter
takes most of fall
and we're still
not willing
even by January
for skies to split
with liquid glass
to coat
the world greasy
in rainbows
to bury
our hearts
neck deep
in stiff mud
to leave us
with one
wool sock on
a three dog night
to crave butterscotch
early Sunday morning
and the Pig is closed
to stoke
a fire
instead and
sip on
yellow
root
tea
to settle for
first light
chickadees
and blue.

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Temerity

Helen holds hands with thunderheads. It helps when she's weak in the knees, lightning running down abductors, running down bones. Even temple guards succumb to such days, soft as pillows - scarlet velveteen on silk sheets. Pink cyclamen bells the air, and Helen cut her traces. Bridget dreams the summer wind. Its susurrate moan rises in waves, swells with tides of sandalwood to chariot the night. She spins rhapsody around its howl, dawns a golden jet stream on spangled festoons of cirrus. Weak knees fly off with yellow wind, before Bridget stills the night. Sicily wets her lips with limoncello, quells the rabble of heartache, the clatter of waiting. She rings goblets like temple bells, makes a sound map for lost days. Her boat of pink sand brims in blood oranges and cyclamen. Lightning festoons the rabble, Sicily finds Helen’s hand.

Covid19 Journey Day 27

April 17, 2020 Today’s celebration – Last May I attended the annual school fundraising gala. Browsing the items on the silent auction tables, I found nothing that that stirred my avarice, so I took another tack and decided to find things that I could have fun with or devise pleasure from, as a way to justify some necessary opening bids. There was an impressive box of chocolate bars with a couple bottles of red on which I entered the first bid, and I paused at a wooden crate with another pair of wines, nice glasses and a gift certificate for a charcuterie tray. The vintner of the Pinot Noir and Chardonnay was Kosta Browne. Without a thought of the initial bid being the winning bid, I scratched my offer on line #1 - $150. I did covet a set of hand thrown mugs from our headmaster’s wheel, but found my bid lost in the healthy bid escalations. By the end of the evening though, I was the winner of the box of wine and chocolate and the two bottles of Kosta Browne. Once at home

Covid19 Journal Entry 16

April 6, 2020 Today’s image – I was thinking about a news story from a couple weeks back. Las Vegas municipal services decided to manage their homeless population’s infection risk by moving these unfortunates to a parking lot that was taped off into spaces six feet apart. Out in the open elements these displaced people were parked, while the hotels in the casinos stood empty. Today, I listened to local news while sewing masks after school. They interviewed the director of a local homeless relief organization that provided shelter to hundreds in our area. The director mentioned that more often than not, these people live in such crisis already that they miss the big news stories or just decide to tune them out because they don’t want to stack more crisis on top of their own unsolvables. She said they were managing the mandates of the outbreak dangers with federal funds that were matched by community funds to put up their homeless clients into hotels in the area for the d

What the Muses Leave Behind

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