The only green on that bare tree
has wrapped itself
around its trunk
and begun its
slow climb to the top. What happens
when it’s gone as
far as it can
go? Does it turn
around and begin a slow descent,
passing itself
on its way down
to solid ground?
JDG
“You’re such a romantic,” they said.
“For you every
turkey-vulture
is a red-tailed
hawk, every crow a raven,” but
victory was mine
when overhead,
in a nearby
tree, sun shimmered red on a large
bird’s tail, “Yes,”
I said, “and each
grandkid, a pearl.”
JDG
In the darkest of dark times, when
we’re lost and there’s
no way back to
what was before,
we huddle together in grief’s
cold cave finding
a little warmth,
a bit of light
in remembering, in putting
back together
with stories what
was once alive.
JDG
The pale blue veil of mist drops down,
connecting pond
and sky. The trees,
some newly bare,
some ever-green, stand enfolded
in a gentle
rain. A fire
glows soft within.
On my lap a golden cat purrs.
When I shift, she
stretches, miffed. Thus
the day begins.
JDG
It’s one of those days when even
the sun has lost
its glow and hangs
there, round and pale,
in an indifferent sky. Though
I may yearn for
another sun
in another
kind of sky, I’ve learned, at last, not to
lose myself in
wishing for other
suns and skies.
JDG
Instead of demanding things be
other than they
are, perhaps I’ll
spend some time with
what is and get to know it well.
What will come of
this, I do not
know, but one thing
I know for sure: this is a much
different tack
than any I
have tried before.
JDG
Those once green fields are now stained rust
and the song of
robins is met
with the wild
honk of geese. Scattered hay bales rest
upon shorn hills.
With the slow turn
of seasons, I
start shifting too, sorting what to
carry with me
into Winter’s
gathering arms.
JDG
A simple shift of seating brings
into view a
different scene, one
both broad and deep.
The leaves of distant trees shiver
in the wind, but
the needles of
the nearest pines
stay almost still. Inside a fire
burns, casting warmth,
and leaping light –
allowing peace.
JDG
After another day of mist
and rain, my heart
longs for a bit
of warmth and light,
for the first gently dancing flames
of Fall to rise
from hearth and tree
and soothe me with
their golden light, chasing away
all thoughts of gray,
reminding me
of better days.
JDG
After several days of rain,
of dreariness,
and relentless
mist, the evening
sky shows promise of another
kind of day. Such
promises keep
darkened clouds from
settling in and tamping down
all hope for sun’s
warm gift of a
bright tomorrow.
JDG
aholdingplace 