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Showing posts from September, 2014

A Good Time (old unpublished poem)

You forgot about today only yesterday, yet whisper at the door of the coming hour. Is it because my shadow sleeps in the grass under the tree at noon? We are stepping past one another as we learn timing. You’re the seconds: always racing by, looking in doors, jumping over flowerbeds. I’m the minutes: lingering in the fragrance and residue of your just-having-been-here. What else can I say? Our tree bears no flowers, no fruit. We can never agree on a good time for anything.

Butterfly

Image
Butterfly A fiery orange butterfly flits over fresh-cut grass— an ember from the molten core of Earth, riding summer winds. Photo by Jay Sturner (From the book Wilderness & Love )