I fly through the house on my knee scooter! I perch on my cane. I sometimes miss the sofa life, which strangely brought with it a peaceable acceptance of my condition, along with whatever was brought on a tray. I…
Pepper and Poems
115 Articles
115
For my Aunt Marie Green leaves cradle the fallen and finished – spent, diminished – (Nature cradles broken things) Lantana yellow small and white bloom wild, unburdened – fierce, unplanted – (Sown by Nature’s careful hand) Unplanned her hard shell cracks…
Do you ever let flowers die in the vase for the poignant beauty – and gorgeous horror – of their fade? Living the sofa life, I imagine myself in a 19th century novel… a woman who has taken to her bed, gazing at her…
In the middle of the night, toes burning, I find – awake, on the sofa – that life can be bathed in holy light, in darkness. The monks chant on my phone. I know what I am grateful for… *…
I hope you’ll find beauty and solace in these wildly different poems, as I have. They are each, in their way, about patience. But first, a tiny joke! My sweet friend sends me one each day as I’m living the…
When God, the universe, and a small puppy knock you off your feet so completely that you break both ankles, it feels kind-of personal. In an Old Testament kind of way. An invisible match still burns the toes on my…
Barbara Kingsolver has a new book of poetry out – “How to Fly (In Ten Thousand Easy Lessons)”. It is marvelous. Her poems are readable, easy on the ears, honest; they cut to the heart of things. They sometimes feel like…
In the morning we rise when Daisy cries. She cries to be released from the crate. I reach in, retrieve her, and she and I go to Pepper’s crate. Daisy bounds in with bunny jumps and face licks and face…
Dear Bacon Friends – I just spent several nights at my parents’ home, and in my mother’s garden the flowers were whispering rather loudly amongst themselves… In the magical garden September Cle – o – me feel bound by the ground…