A me I seldom see stopped by
today to let
me know I’m all
ok. “All ?” I
thought, “Even the me who yells when
mad, the me who
can take a hill
and turn it into
a mountain, mole and all?” For a
moment, we me’s
met and became,
mercifully, whole.
JDG
Summer Blanket
I want to throw off this summer
blanket of heat
and haze which lies
so heavily
across these hills. I want to run
cool and free in
morning’s first light.
I want to hear
the clear call of other early
birds. I’d even
welcome the caw
of crow if it
could pierce this heat.
JDG
A Few Haiku
As thunder grumbles
five women silently write
Day creeps toward night
Summer rain pounds down
Evening darkness edges in
What becomes of them
Summer morning light
Young deer lies, stilled, eyes catching mine
Cars pass on hard road
Evening Fire
Gentle fire lights evening sky
amidst summer
storm. A single
bird flies through the
ever-shifting light, wings beaten
by the rain. In
the end, the clouds
win out, but not
before the sun, for a moment,
streaks the wet road
and darkened sky
with waves of gold.
JDG
The Draw of Water
What draws us to the water, we
who walk on land?
Is it that we
long to be held
and carried for a time, to be
rocked as once we
were, to just float
and skim, to have
our horizon limited to
sun, clouds, moon, stars,
water, and the
memory of shore?
JDG
Sublime Devolving
In the unspoken talks I have
with them, I’m clear
and eloquent
and kind. I speak
softly and my big stick is tucked
safely out of
view, but when my
lips begin to
move and sound stutters from my mouth,
the talk quickly
becomes ever
so less sublime.
JDG
Just This Morning
Just this morning they were there, those
self-starters, those
self-sufficient,
self-sustaining
hearty volunteers, greeting
all passersby.
Bachelor Buttons,
Black-eyed Susans,
Queen Anne’s Lace – now gone,
cut away – their
wild, messy
ways replaced with
a tidy green. No human hand
planted, watered,
or tended them
and no human
hand can keep them down.
Still, I mourn.
JDG
Finding A Poem
Sometimes the words come pouring in
and all I have
to do is let
them out onto
the page, but more often I sit
or walk and wait
for one or two
to emerge and
sniff the air. If conditions are
just right , they hang
around and help
me find a poem.
JDG
On Not Impressing Queen Anne
Queen Anne was not impressed when I
smiled and waved
as I’d seen the
royals do. It
was a natural response to
those bachelors, tall
and thin, who lined
the road, blue faces
turned my way. How could I pass by
pretending I
didn’t even
care they were there?
JDG
Finding A Minute
Some days finding a minute
to write a minute
is no easy
feat, yet setting
aside some time each day helps me
come home from tasks
and talk. It’s good
to return to
the simple joy of being, to
take the time to
note what gets lost
in life’s uproar.
JDG
