30 Saturday Sep 2017
Sorrow pools,
tears break the rim and,
with them, shadow of knowing
that salty drops rise when it matters-
any thing,
something,
this thing-
and a quarter turn brings
appreciation,
saying
stop
in this place, now-
where old meets new
gently
and slow.
28 Thursday Sep 2017
Stars, warm wind, Morning rises
with purple sky.
Foucault pages rest in my lap yet
song of hummingbird through open window
means infinitely more.
A feeding tree- one plump with fruit and tiniest birds-
is black silhouette waking
into day’s light.
23 Saturday Sep 2017
Sun drapes her sheer cloth across the hillsides,
Mixed flocks, busy in fruiting trees, chirp amicably,
A chill has crept in at night, the woolens brought to bed,
and nothing so pretty as autumn has graced the canyon
in a long time.
18 Monday Sep 2017
Memories are being given away,
space no longer for rent to the unwelcome.
A wooden chair with woven seat sits now
facing sunrise.
Closets have been emptied, drawers cleared out
and sold.
Neither vacancy nor void, but place has opened,
safe, dynamic, light and warm.
17 Sunday Sep 2017
The river turns here,
around a mountain- one ancient, familiar, not to be forgotten.
From mature, back to youthful, thick water tumbles on
toward old age.
No guessing when, nor how, not even what awaits
on the other side of the mountain,
but slowing into transition, touching each passing stone,
scoops up now drop by sweet drop,
the flavor of entry into great unknown.
16 Saturday Sep 2017
Unsure the proper weight of memory,
this trough I built is full.
The heavy bottomlessness of water sucks under,
especially when it prefers to move.
Sensing an unintended timelessness,
I pull, twist, crack apart worn wood,
watch stasis become
a brook babbling its true and changing song.
16 Saturday Sep 2017
A word about this site –
Its name has been changed to “Salt, Smoke, and Stone.”
Welcome to all who follow.
A bit more information can be found on the About page. Course, that may change too . . .
Enjoy the journey ~
