Mindful Writing Challenge 2014 Small stones

Nails – #smallstone – Day 4

unvarnished and plain,
jagged edges at the end of my body.
Toenails
Unabashed sign
Of Winter.

I’m writing “small stones” as past of Mindful Writing Challenge 2014.  If you care to participate, here’s the link. Feel free to read and enjoy more wonderful mindful posts from across the world on Twitter at #smallstone.Read on…Nails – #smallstone – Day 4

Mindful Writing Challenge 2014 Small stones

Boxes – #smallstone – Day 3

Six pressure-treated boxes in the backyard.
Cubical quadrilaterals waiting under
A flat snow. We aren’t always a
Summer jungle of tomato vines.

I’m writing “small stones” as past of Mindful Writing Challenge 2014.  If you care to participate, here’s the link. Feel free to read and enjoy more wonderful mindful posts from across the world on Twitter at #smallstone.Read on…Boxes – #smallstone – Day 3

I Feel Frozen

Outside the days are beautiful.
Some held down by moist grey mists.
Others creeping up on me until
I happen to glance up, then find I am unable to
Move under the onslaught of
Unbroken blue above me,
Interrupted by the shouts of
Red and gold.

All of it seems too much to take.
I feel frozen. It’s been awhile. Since
The tomato plants blossomed, that’s
When I sputtered to a stop. I rusted
Still into the landscape.

My mind blank.

I lay down on the grass and watch the
Leaves head down to their end, their
Veins full at first, then taken
Hard and crumbling to the
Dark place under the pine arms
To break down. I watch a fat fly get slower and

Slower. On Saturday the color peak
Hit, I saw. I sped on 95
Gawking as a wild child and wondering:
Does any day or moment or
Second become more than this?

But now, today, the trees still
Keep their color but they
Regret it.  They narrow.
The middle ground
Brown is coming and
Wet slapping winds and the safety of

Winter is not
Near enough. … Read on…I Feel Frozen

Waking Up To a Thunderstorm


There’s reasons to get up. The
Have-tos, especially, drag me
Out of bed, and the little voice
Chirping from the other room. There’s
Reasons to untie myself from the
Sheet: my own needs and the
Dog’s. And sometimes it’s good
Enough reason to escape
Bleached linoleum dream floors
That I was pacing, searching
For a missing friend.

But this morning the call
Came from the barometer
Falling and rain pattering
On the hard plastic a/c case.
Crawling from sleep,
I pulled on my storm chaser
Habit and tossed back the
Blanket. I checked the
Time, counted the stairs,
Touched the screens to
Tell which direction
She came. Then I
Drew up a chair
By one open
Window
And waited. … Read on…Waking Up To a Thunderstorm