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Dog is lagging yet
clear skies pale green leaves urge me
to linger longer.
Where river meets lake
we stand as Toronto gleams
across the waters.
Hills like cut paper
black against tissue blue skies.
Through poked holes, stars shine.
In the skyscraper
canyons, light outlines moving
shapes sipping Starbucks.
Like a jeweler
displaying gems on velvet
wealth gleams beyond reach
a dilemma of
riches in tiny topaz
the art of language
the constant dripping
nature’s tears of joy as she
sees her world reborn
The equinox means
equal night and day worldwide
yin and yang of light.
Days grow longer like
smiles that stretch wider as one
greets a long lost friend.
Got a new camera.
What moments will it capture
in pixels and bytes?
Luminous suitor,
the moon dimmed by darkness’s
seductive regard.
Dawn the breath of a
new day paused when night exhales
sunrise dimmed by fog.
Through the rainforest.
Lunch at Rhythms Rainbow Beach,
then Carambola.
We eat cereal
on the porch by the sea, while
island music plays.
I burn candles and
incense. Maintain silence. Find
myself in nothing.
Like flickering tongues
of flame in green…blue…red. Just
plug in and enjoy.
Viriconium,
Gormenghast, Majipoor. Dark
journeys. Twisted dreams.
White has many shades.
Shadow blue, sunlit gold, grey
of approaching storm.
Summer’s sizzle leaves
me cold. Instead, winter’s white
embrace warms my heart.
Gently falling stars,
nature’s sand slipping through the
hourglass of winter.
J’s Pied Piper calls.
Mecca of offbeat fashion,
she shops in a daze.
The Windy City
carries aloft a million
dreams on fierce updrafts.
Windows at Lord &
Taylor gleam with holiday
scenes. Small worlds of joy
The heart of the world.
Like fireworks that never fade
explosions of light.
Bryant Park transformed,
craft booths shine with baubles, lit
from within with smiles
Silence erases
thoughts and stress like dry markers
wiped clean from white boards.
First snowfall blankets
unraked beds of leaves. Nature’s
default is beauty.
You’ll never again
feel pain, joy both at once. Be
so at odds with life.
Trees have never held
leaves as late as November.
Frost was wrong. Gold stays.
Vision isn’t so
much a function of seeing
as it is feeling.
I’m not here. I’m lost
in Varanasi. A world
Luke Storm opened wide.
Site Meter tells me
my words are read in countries
I’ll never visit.
Random strangers in-
tersect with few words, then sep-
arate like pulled threads.
with props to Bonnie and best birthday wishes
Love, like wine, improves
with age. The Bonnie/Benny
vintage most of all.
Pumpkin cheesecake in
the oven. Nutmeg, ginger.
Fragrant November.
Fast forward to the
next holiday in the stores.
Retail at light speed.
Stars so sharp they are
holes in time, the past shining
into the future.
My husband raises
African violets, purple
faces raised towards him.
Wearing the mantle
of autumn. Cold starry nights
days of leaf-strewn gold.
This is the dance in
side my head. No two left feet.
Only thoughts, spinning.
Turn the clocks back next
week? I could use that extra
hour of sleep right now!
Back east, the skies are
clearing, blue unending. Cool
dampness. Leaves changing.
Miraculous. Fire
missed Anne’s house. She’s back at home.
The worst thing now - smoke.
Kindred spirits drift
within the net and sometimes
meet by accident.
We visited once.
Soaked in your hot tub under
the lemon tree’s shade.
Staying up all night
is the new black. I wear it
and dance until dawn.
We’ve shut the windows.
Pulled out sweaters, pulled on socks.
A fall admission.
Cold rain heralded
her return. Killing frost trails
her, biding his time.
mother nature’s miss
taken october for jewel
eye’s endless summer.
Foggy days. The shroud
of mystery that veils our
ordinary lives.
Home from the party
they’re luminous like fireflies
settling down to sleep.
Switching to vampire
office hours. In bed past noon.
I write without light.
What we wish for shines
brightest when out of reach. Once
grasped, its luster dims.