January 1
Every morning is a shore this one as much as any other Some precipices hold an allure but not this one not anymore
All posts tagged: time
January 1
They cancelled the fireworks but no one knew the countdown proceeded and we arrived at a precipice with misplaced anticipation– a bewildered pause the cork stuck the breath retained who knew time could slip away unnoticed even as we marked it a profound underestimation our breath dissipating into the newly christened night
July 2
Morning, overcast, insistent doves. A bright gray, an unsettled wind saying soon this will all blow over. The lake houses all full this weekend, bits of chatter from other porches, I mean, it is what it is— or nearer to home the silent neighbor, surveying his swaying grape vines . Our grapes are dusky-hued, small beads, the birds aren’t even interested yet, the basil deep green and starting to bolt– expectations a difficult thing. Still, the pepper […]
June 30
Still light as day this late the urge to linger is compelling a cesura and June gives way like a sandbank I should pack it’s not even that hot but these days there is a muggy weight to motivation why change these hours are made to sit and make plans to pin the days in place tomorrow is a new day but it isn’t here yet
January 31
Hours– almost a possessive. None of these nights are quite the same, a passer-by, rain showers, and here, a startling scent of spring– something blooming early and unseen, untimely, free from that tie that binds so tightly, so coarse a cord– it’s morning, already, again
OPTIONAL POETRY 