Category: Gratitude

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Fresh Air

The brain — beholding itself brashly with chords of wrought-iron wrinkles — quietly slips underneaththe sheets, far enough under to savor flavors of cottony cool. Growing quiet, it lingers  in silence; the wash of fresh nothing permeatesthe underside of the cotton sheet. Light breeze sweepsagainst brain, cool and sweet, gentle coursing of blood flowing, symbiosis. Big breath — if brains could breathe — 

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Pacific Call to Prayer

I have found the reason for living  in a town like this, our doorstep perpetually  dusted with buttery sand and mountain leaves brought in by a single sweep from the balcony. The sweet sea air circles the windows  like a cat with her mouse or the roach  with his drain. Curiosity comes and goes. Frolicsome play at one with it all. A fine day, with rooster … Read More Pacific Call to Prayer

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Graceful Aging

Red roses on a working canvas. Trampling used to be my speciality; now it is up to the doveswho grace the balcony window in harmonious flight. Do the stars know you by now? They must. The way 

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From the Lanai

The cloaked mountains make my breath smile easing up against my eyebrows like a wiggly exclamation mark caught up in chimney smoke destined for the highlands. I forget to breathe. The moon wears her silk gown this afternoon trailing the sky like jet stream; women whisper after her wherever she goes. Men trace the edgesand those in between wear for themselves the splendor. Spectacular, truly, the vines caught swift amongstthe bird … Read More From the Lanai

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Pathfinder

A crowded smile in the middle of the street. Waiting for someone to come pat me on the neck and get that blood flowing. Faucets of lifedrenching the crosswalk and not a soul crossing—Lost and found on a Sunday morning. What a time to remember being born, to taste the earthinessof wilting sunshine between low coastal fog. Do the leaves always scatter so, tossed like halloween candy from an … Read More Pathfinder

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Voyages of a Footfall

Voyages of a footfall in late November in the woods west of Kansas City. Boot treadthe color of faded apple dust, scenting like a coon hound the wizened mushroom stumps of a wild summer. I’m not quite surewhere I am, until I reach the pond — then my black gloved hands gently nursea calm hello to the bark of the dogwoods that line the scummy lagoon like sentries. In the … Read More Voyages of a Footfall

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Gravy

Self-reliance is the wind coming through the prayer flags whistling like a pair of overalls on a hot autumn’s day. The gravy’s cooling and the counter is clean and strong as the willowthat boy doesn’t bow. The front door opensso soft and sweeping his lover comes home her arms full of rain —

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How to Read a Poem

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Open Window

Clasping my hands behind my back, I survey the sights from the kitchen window and breathe deeply the wind that docks from the mountain tops tucked in clouds. All is fair, if one counts birds and lemon treesagainst the straying plastic trash kicked up by flattened car tires and pulsing hydrants. The neighbor boys clatter skateboards against the stretched asphalt, heat dust wavering between ground and sky. Crisped linen shirts wiggle freelyon laundry … Read More Open Window

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Oksana

A blue bike leans against the iron railing. It is bright summertime in Ukraine and the railroad lady tends a garden full  to blooming with cucumbers, beetroot, squash she bends over in a frock like livery. Her blue buttoned uniform blossoms from beneath the frock, the cuffs kissed with splashes of dirt kicked up from the motley flower pots. She hears a distant whine— she unties the bow and drapes it on the … Read More Oksana

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Surf Guru’s Three Rules

The waves on south shore Oahu are limp during the winter months. Adrenalized surfing doesn’t take place until April (really mid-May), when surprise swells from the Tasman Sea rip into the bays of Waikiki and Ala Moana. Sudden waves barrel on top of longboards, chipping them against the coral heads exposed during low tide. And such a surprise swell last April!

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The Road to York

  Days ebb into days again nothing so precious all chokeholds relax — I feel the spring breeze become the spring breeze the warmth of the morning sun the morning sun. With my eyes so rid of this fixity, I see peripherally —