Purring, she lies on

my lap, nudging my hand with

her head, asking for

more strokes, an additional

scratch behind the ear.

There’s nothing coy, subtle or

demure here. She’s quite

direct about what she needs.

Hmmm, is there a lesson here?

                                                                                 JDG

Our neighbor’s dog came

 calling today, inviting

Toby to leave his

place upon the hill and chase

some crows, pester some

deer, herd some joggers. “The day

may be grey , but you

don’t have to take it lying

down,” he seemed to say.

Toby agreed and bounded

away. Maybe I’ll bound too.

                                                                                  JDG

She jumped out of bed,

calling, “I’ve caught a poem!”

and went looking for

paper and pen. Baited and

waiting, the hook lies

just below the surface, and

sometimes, as my granddaughter

knows, a poem appears and bites.

                                                                                    JDG

Against the swelling

sweep of land and sky, trees stand,

bare branches outstretched.

Each tree, each branch, in its own

way, angles and pokes –

their jagged edges showing.

The great vastness holds,

unconcerned, such expression

of stark singularity.

                                                                                     JDG

As I drive toward home,

I am led to muse upon

the setting sun and

the touch of pink it brings to 

the far horizon.

Startled by the sudden stench

of skunk, my musings

jump from pink to stink. I know

 the sun will shortly

set, the stench will pass, and as

 night draws close, I move toward home.

                                                                                             JDG

Over the steady

sound of rain, a raven caws,

announcing the slow

shift of night to day. Later,

a small group gathers

on the lawn, undaunted by

the weather.  At least,

though wet, the land’s not under

cover. Thus, we all can feast.

                                                                                 JDG

We’re never too old

to yearn for the comfort of

a mother’s arms when

things get to be too much. That

cherry tree outside

my window stands firm and true

through every season.

At seventy one it’s

to her outstretched arms I go.

                                                                                             JDG

Down the hill the pond

lies frozen still, though we’ve had

two days of spring-like

warmth. Sometimes we’re like that too,

turning a cold shoulder

to offered warmth. The pond, in

time, will thaw, but we

can choose to stay locked in ice

through sun-kissed days of summer.

                                                                                                      JDG

Who would have thought we’d

be so glad to see brown once

more? After many

days of white and ice, lovely

though they were, it is

plain brown that comforts us and

brings us back to solid ground.

                                                                                                    JDG

The sky was filled with

corrugated cardboard clouds

and more ravens than

I could count. I wish I knew

what this might portend

as I move slowly, inch by

inch, into another place.

                                                                      JDG