Here is sampling of my writing.
Our pond is small, compared to those on nearby country properties, maybe fifty feet in diameter. Basically it’s a frog pond only five feet deep in the middle, a third of its depth the primordial muck that incubates dragonfly nymph s and mosquito larvae. Twenty years ago, a back-hoe pulled...continue reading..
Goodbye, good riddance!
I’ve tended you long enough.
My patience is worn thin,
like your scraggly cucumber vines
and withered onion stalks.
Can’t you hear the jays screech
my aggravation while goldfinch
flit behind my back and empty
each and every sunflower?
Better they devoured
your striped cucumber pests,
and ugly...continue reading..
(A Poem for a Sister Who Left Too Soon)
Last summer, hour after hour,
you milked the currants
from their slender stems
and stained your fingers red.
Some fell into your lap,
small round berries,
aimed hot, months before,
at the meteorite that
crashed with a silent thud,
Old sugar maples edge the road
with power lines parting branches,
and trunks baring scars of lost limbs,
victims of storms and chainsaws
that feared wind and black-outs.
The ‘b’ is silent, I tell the children.
“Cross it out. Don’t say the sound.”
They nod and ask, “What’s a limb?”...continue reading..