Milk Chocolate and Red

My mind thinks in terms of four o’clock.  Four, when I’d had to get ready for work.  Four, the only number that has two colors,  milk chocolate and red.  Four, the number of children, including me.  My soul thinks in terms of late afternoon light, And this is why I prefer it almost entirely.  Rarely…

Unedited Poem #13: Horizon

even when the sky is at its darkest, even when sea and storm rage  against the shore, you can still see– always see– the inky line  of the horizon  winking, as if it knows of a soon-coming  light despite the blackest night.

Dappled III: Bonfire

My father set up the logs and kindling in the night. He left us in the day and told me I would be in charge. I went outside to birth the flame and shadow with my light, And in that flame, I saw my soul, alive though on the marge. In the shadow I could…

Dappled II: Flame and Glow

Like first-flight birds, the days together flow. Breathing deeply, I know where I have been. Life dapples the soul with flame and sorrow. Helios’ disc in my eyes rises slow. I stop and let (some) soft healing begin. Like lazy waves, the days together flow. Wind shakes songs from the trees, songs I used to know….

Unedited Poem #7: Dappled

life dapples skin, at one time  full of light, warm and bright and  beautiful; at another time deep, dark and shivering.  life dapples skin.  the days  breathe.