A Poem on Life with Small Children
You may relate. – In Suzanne U. Clark’s The Roar on the Other Side: A Guide for Student Poets, she instructs students to write two poems, one about a caco...
Category: WINTER
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Snippets from Old Winter Posts
Sunrise is muffled by a pale veil, but the snowy ground glows. The scene framed by my window pane looks like spray paint on sidewalk chalk: The sky is three pas...
Savoring the Last Snow. Hopes.
Funny how I yearly lament autumn’s pending ending yet the first snow brings joy. I never settle into winter, as long as it lasts, I wait wait for it to en...
Like Three Seasons at Once
I appreciate a tri-tone leaf green, yellow and red all on one like I relish in a tri-tone street like I savor a tri-tone state of mind. Our block this week seem...
Buttricks, Buttresses and Back Roads: Entering Prayer Quiet & Confident
Does King’s College Chapel’s ceiling remind you of winter treetops on an unbending back road? Around here, where winter is long and tree-vaulted roa...
Snow on the Beach
Hours from now, the now unadulterated slope will look dimpled and drudged. People like to feel fresh snow crunch beneath their boots. So old footprints are trea...
Good Morning, Snow Flakes
>Either this robe is warmer than I thought it was or my interest in watching snow trumps my cold sensors. I am sitting in our front porch chair with two of m...
Post-snow Snow Post
>Today, the snow stopped falling heavily from the sky and started falling heavily from the trees. This morning, I sat behind my storm door while I ate my cer...
Three Kinds of Snow from an Espresso-drinking Bookstore Shopper
Three are three kinds of snow: 1) Clustered chunks of snowflakes fall steadily like powdered sugar from a shaker. Gravity pulls these more slowly than it would ...
Morning Drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway
My Jetta and I drove from Florida to Maine two wks ago. I would call it a life-experience. I entered the Appalachian Mntns the 2nd morning. I appropriately turn...
Clustered crystals of that wintery white stuff
It’s 6AM. When I woke to the site out the window, “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” came on immediately, like a needle had been lifted and set on the Bing Cro...
The Underbelly of Ubiquity
The days of my pumpkin spiced lattes are dwindling. The plump pumpkins that lined the grocers’ windows have been replaced with poignant poinsettias and will soo...