winter shadows on the table in the hall

        I hear the quiet in the dark and smell the warm sunlight dancing across the wall I see the crack in the jar where the cover doesn’t quite fit I feel the chip in the wall in the shape of a ragged heart I taste the offering of sweetness waiting on the table   I think this is me my…

ghosts of summer’s past

          “..the lawn Is pressed by unseen feet, and ghosts return Gently at twilight, gently go at dawn..” T.S. ELIOT (excerpt from To Walter de la Mare)              

a certain light

                        there’s a different feel to November now that the days are shorter and the leaves are on the ground        

rare moments of clarity

                   that day by the lake  quietly absorbing the color and light          


                how small the day is the time of colors the rush of brightness ~ W. S. Merwin