Tag: phototriature

Whatever

04Apr13

Whatever
the occupation
the age
the gender

Whatever
the sexual preference
the religion
the hair color

Whatever the size of
the bank book
the house
the appetite

Whether one likes
numbers
beakers
paint
words
proof
or
faith
best

Whatever
the handicap
the illness
the eye color

Whatever
the height
the dental records
the shoe size

Whatever
the favorite color
the preferred mode of transportation
or dress
or leisure activity

Whatever the differences . . .
We’re all Somebodies
Somewhere
in Some Way.

a special delivery, homemade birthday card with wings and kisses for my friend Angela

Sugar, today (and everyday, for that matter) (but especially today), I wish you . . .

Wisdom

wisdom

13

capriccioso,

Latches

and solitude.

I wish you . . .

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asylum and refuge

8

cerulean, zephyrs, and lullabies

6

talismans, bibelots, aubades, and amulets of beauty.

I wish you . . .

Weathereddoor

tapestries of rhapsodies, epiphanies, and tranquility

Clouds2

silver linings, caresses, and champagne

Flower

and all the colorful, textured felicity you can stand.

5 97 1 erased

I wish you sojourns
that as as meaningful as they are memorable
and I send the wishes all
wrapped up in a gossamer bow called love.

water under the bridge

the sun peeked out from the clouds
just enough to lure us out
for a walk this morning.

i chose this hill,

Uphill

which looks enticingly meandering
from the bottom
and a bit more formidable from the top

Downhill

husband went another way.
he has his own hills to climb.

——-

yesterday the water raged,

Falls1

fierce and muddied in its flowing.
agitated, to say the least.

today, such a difference.

Falls1

there’s still a lot of water flowing,
but much has settled
making things clearer.

——-

on one side of the bridge,
the water is calm,
smooth,
like an oddly-shaped mirror
reflecting all around it.
deceptively placid.

but when it flows under the bridge
it transforms noticeably.
letting no boulder
or branch
stand in its way.
moss growing
only around the far edges.

aggregate

19

21

20

at first glance,
this rock that sits perched
is small,
colorful,
pretty,
of a non-descript shape.

but

upon closer inspection,
well,
just look:

1

4

5

6

7

9

10

11

14

15

17

when we take the time
to get close,
when we slow down
and take a good look,
this stone
is more colorful
than we imagined.
its surface
is filled with
bumps
and crevices.
outer crusts
are breaking,
falling away
to reveal
even more
color
and complexity
and beauty
and
there’s even
a bit of sparkle
to boot.

this one-of-a-kind stone sits perched
behind my kitchen sink
where i see it several
times every day.
and each time i gaze upon it,
i think of you,
my beautiful friends,
my brave friends,
my creative friends
i think of you,
my friends
who are strong
enough to be vulnerable,
willing
to reveal
more and more
of your
deepest
sumptuous
selves
every day,
bridging
the chasm
between
your inner self
and
your outer self.
i see all of you,
who are
learning to
speak up
and dig in,
to soar
and rest,
to trust yourself,
and, most important of all,
to cherish yourself,
and i sing.
loudly.
and with gusto.

and hey, lest you
take offense
to being
represented
by a rock,
one word:
bedrock.

drawing near, bending close

Dahlia1

this year
i discovered
dahlias.
discovered,
more specifically,
that i can grow them.

Dahlia2

i also discovered
instagr.am
and fell flat out
in love
with photography,
realizing
what a visual
person i am.
and how i take
pictures
the way i present
myself in life:
only a wee little
bit at a time.
perceived safety and all.
we’ll talk more about that
later.

Sunflower1

Sunflower2

i discovered
sunflowers this year, too.
oh, i knew sunflowers
from way back.
in graduate school,
i’d trek up to stowe
for some good wine,
good chocolate,
and roadside
sunflowers,
sold on the
honor system.

Sunflower3

but this year,
thanks to the
help of my
camera
(iphone 4, no less)
i came to
know both
dahlias and sunflowers
in a different,
more intimate way,
much as jane kenyon
came to know
peonies . . .

Dahlia3

In the darkening June evening
I draw a blossom near, and bending close
search it as a woman searches
a loved one’s face.

Sunflowerdying1

sunflowers,
like so many people i’ve been honored to know,
age
and eventually die
with grace.
something you’re
bound to see
if you don’t just gaze
or look
or glimpse
but see,
deeply,
lovingly
see.

Sunflowerdying7

acquainted

Sunflowerfamily

at first glance,
it’s obvious she belongs to
the Sunflower family.
the family resemblance is obvious.

Sunflowerpetals1

those yellow petals
shining brightly
from the dark center
of seeds.
future generations of Sunflowers.

Sunflower3

but sit with her,

Sunflower8

take a while to get to know her,

Sunflower7

and you’ll see that
while yes,
she is a Sunflower,

Sunflower10

she is more
than who she’s related to,
more than the
geography
from which she
comes.

Sunflower6

so much more.

Sunflower2

and maybe
not at all
what you
thought she was
when you knew her
only as a Sunflower.