Steps And Missteps

Slowly we walked, the dogs and I,

past the pond aswirl with morning mist,

past the wide expanse of lawn

alight with morning dew.

I paused to pick up a paper

tossed upon the ground –

a student’s discarded test 

abundantly marked with red.

If only it were that easy, I thought,

to leave our mistakes behind, 

but several of mine snuck in …

 marking the rest of my walk with red,

but one of a gentler kind.





Forever Green

Small, green grasshopper,

why did you come inside yesterday?

I picked you up and put you out

only to have you greet me

from the door frame again today.

Clearly you have something

important to convey.

 What that is, I cannot say.

What I can say is this:

“Namaste, small, green grasshopper, namaste.”


Guessing Game

Undecided morning sky

signals with its tinge of pink:

maybe rain, maybe not.

Periodically I check the sky

hoping it will clarify.


Walking With Questions

How many leaves can one dog 

sniff on this slowest 

of slow-moving walks?

On how many trees

can he leave his mark before

he’s left enough?

The answer, my friend,

is blowing in the wind

which is moving faster than us.



Two Women, Two Generations Apart

After so many years of teenage dismissal,

imagine my surprise 

when  I got her call seeking my advice.

Imagine her surprise 

when, before launching in,

I asked for her opinion.

Two women, two generations apart,

delightfully surprised

by each other.