Sunday, January 17, 2010

I took a class at the BBAC on "painting winter" yesterday. Fun thing to do on a snowy day!

Saturday, January 16, 2010

I am tired of playing solitaire
showing myself how clever I am.
Usually I lose, of course.
And, what does that mean?
There is something oddly engaging
about turning cards and matching them up.
Red queen on black king.
Aces on the top.
Maybe the deal is
you can't really beat the odds
And I like to be reminded of that
once in a while.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Spell to be said before sleep

O tall black trees, bless the dark
Each clean dish nestled
in the cupboard; patient, useful
Deer in the forest, bedded down
trust night
Orion makes his way across heaven
his knife safely sheathed
All who worry without words,
lay still like snow
The moon's silver light
cascades down the mountain
swims in the trickling river.
Carry us all, O earth, safely to tomorrow.
( after Jane Hirschfield)

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

with such imperfect tools
as sounds and letters
with our varied histories
and our fumbo\ling ineptitudes
with our need to be right
and to be praised
with our desire to say
the unsayable
with our hidden agendas
and most sincere desires
with our half mastery
of vocabulary and syntax
with our predilections to speak
rather than to listen
we yet transmit meaning
one way or another.

Monday, January 11, 2010


There is something thrilling
about snow sifting
from the sky in profound
abundance at dawn. Scarcely
visible in the new morning’s
gray light. Its tender
embrace of each bare thing.
Its steadiness somehow comforting.
It covers the history of yesterday -
the dog’s paw-prints, the tire tracks.
It uncovers your memories
of childhood sledding, forts.
Its predictable yet unpredictable
presence every year.
The way it makes the unbearable
It cannot be willed or stopped.
Only beheld.
Will you?
Will you allow it
to sift through you
until you too
are made