Tag: nature

Meltaway Island



Last bit of
Snow on that
Surreal green patch.

Sun’s out.

We all live on
Meltaway Island.

— part of the 2013 Mindful Writing Challenge on “Writing Our Way Home”

The horizon has exhaled – small stone

cold slices the
dull morning. my head down,
feet breaking up the
snow crust. I’m a
mindless fog itself
pied pipering behind
sweetie’s tinkling collar

until
suddenly
my pupils contract:
My head snaps up.

The horizon has
Exhaled.
Hard.
Pushing the day’s
Amber light
Up’n at ’em.


I’m writing small stones as part of the January Mindful Writing Challenge. Feel free to join us.

One Red Smudge

(Here’s a practice small stone to warm up for the kickoff of tomorrow’s Mindful Writing Challenge. I love that this writing challenge is in January: my favorite month of the year for writing. Feel free to join me and hundreds of others around the world!)

One red smudge between
The neighbor’s pine trees
Announces morning has
Arrived. It’s safe for me to
Open my eyes.

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.