May 23 2020


the super sweet blueberries dropped into oatmeal

the smell of lilacs, just outside an open window

a new loaf of bread popped in the oven

a robin, a cardinal, a chickadee

a messy house, a messy garden, a messy life

in need of sorting, cleaning, scrubbing, tending

waiting to be torn from disarray

and pasted back in perfect place

as i sit here

contemplating nothing

sipping tea

and mostly,





May 21 2020


there are leaves on the trees again
and the crabapple is blooming

the robin sings me awake
and then puts the sun to bed with

a story that has no words
and a song that carries sky

there’s a starling
trapped in the chimney
scratching code
in night-blind terror

and i cannot tell you
how much
i need

to listen



. . .


(p.s. i rescued the starling)