snapshot
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Snapshot Poem 02011 February 09
This morning I interrupted a hawk at his breakfast in my garden. Blood and feathers in the snow. Where there is prey, there will be predators. Snow keeps falling, a swirl of lace outside my windows. Amazing Grace plays on the radio, reminding me that I am wretched. But there is grace. Grace in… Continue reading
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Snapshot Poem 10 October 02007
This day is too gray for profundity. I woke to roofers hammering, shingles flying past my window; both dogs quietly asleep, pressed against my knees. The birches are a shower of gold, with a few withered brown leaves, holding, holding on. MP3 File Continue reading
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Snapshot 11 May 02005
Because I do not write, tulips fillwith rain. I lose track of the moon.The air is damp and heavy with spring.Cloud-white parakeet gently cleans the face of her blue mate. Overnightcottonwoods leaf out and this morningpale blossoms grace the ash trees.This orchid stubbornly continues to bloom. On Friday, that unluckythirteenth, my fifty-seventh birthdayfalls. The black… Continue reading
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Snapshot 08 December 02004
Winter is hazardous. The world around my house is a sheet of ice, scattered with thin, dry snow. Windows bloom with frost, birch branches bare on the other side. I stay indoors, still stiff and sore from a fall two days ago. The dogs beg for a walk; they will not have one. Yesterday, the… Continue reading
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Snapshot 17 November 02004
This new moon nightthe city is too brightfor all but a few stars. On the river path, I finda dead pigeon. I leave itfor scavengers. The next morning there is nothingbut feathers and kernelsof corn. Now the sky hangs low and thick;pinkish with the city’sreflection. This wind speaks, it tells methere is snowin the mountains… Continue reading
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