Tag Archives: walking

Mid-Day Poem, January 22, 2016

‘ Upon waking I hear nothing No swish of cars along the road Nothing of the birds’ dawn chorus Through the window I see that the world has turned white And I know that this carpet of snow Deep now … Continue reading

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evening poem, september 9, 2015

THE DEER As the brightness fades from afternoon to evening At the first shade of twilight, they appear Silent as ghosts and Their dun coats blending against the now dulled colors of the land Frozen at the junction of forest … Continue reading

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Midnight Post, July 19, 2015

Our summer house was only twenty miles from where we lived year round. Twenty miles was a lot longer then than it is now. The roads to our summer place were narrow at best and for the last ten miles … Continue reading

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Midnight Post, April 6, 2015

Chapter Three It was late in the fall and he knew that soon he would be returning home from work in darkness and there would be no more evening walks in the woods.  And on this day he was energetic … Continue reading

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Chapter One

Bereaved and alone, he pushed himself to continue doing the things he’d done before.  Cooking, cleaning, reading, writing and walking.  He walked often to the edge of the neighborhood.  To that line where development, for whatever reason, had stopped fifty … Continue reading

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Midnight Poem, April 2, 2015

‘ The brilliant snow has melted Leaving the forest a muted charcoal rendering of itself Vertical lines All grey and black and shade I walk among the varied oaks and maples The smooth-trunked beeches, the anemic sycamores All dry and … Continue reading

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Mid-day Poem, March 30, 2015

The woods still are brown and grey But the icicles are gone And now flowing water stains dark streaks Down the dull sandstone cliff Here and there tiny yellow wildflowers Outrageously golden Look out of place I should learn their … Continue reading

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Evening Poem, March 24, 2015

  . The forest in late winter has about it a stark uniformity All brown and grey Even the songbirds that remain are dun-plumed And camouflaged against the brown floor The bare trunks and branches The dirty sky.   I … Continue reading

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Afternoon Poem, February 21, 2015

A storm is coming, she says. This one’s no picnic, Wet snow, the heavy stuff It’ll break trees and power lines You know the kind. The roads will be a mess Good thing I went to the store already Good … Continue reading

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Morning Post, February 18, 2015

It hasn’t been this cold here for a long time.  Single digits, and I can’t find my hat.  It’s time to leave for work.   I open the closet and search frantically in the years of sediment of wool and cotton on … Continue reading

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