Monday, August 16, 2010

Haiku #343

in the field
mole darting across our path
in its summer coat

Friday, August 13, 2010

Haiku #342

riverbank at night
a campfire
my cold arms

Haiku #341

riverbank at night
a figure passing by
a lighted window

Haiku #340

my husband stands there
keeping sun from the parking
attendant's eyes

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Haiku #339

these quiet
rooms not even crickets

Haiku #338

happy where they are
white phlox
among thistle

Haiku #337

a day alone
insect husks on the trunk
of the aspen

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Haiku #336

panting dogs
heads going up and down
in the grass

Haiku #335

curious goats
the man who feeds them
sharpens the knife

Haiku #334

summer tourists
each man outdoing the other
telling about his job

Haiku #333

late summer
tasting fallen blossoms

Haiku #332

wishing for rain--
hot wind in the aspens
sounds like rain

Monday, August 09, 2010

Haiku #331

falling off 
as the cat walks away
a dead summer leaf

Sunday, August 08, 2010

Haiku #330

a hot evening
too much of everything
mosquitoes and grass

Haiku #329

dirt pile
a shovel stands in it
all by itself

Saturday, August 07, 2010

Haiku #328

only a fly
in church

Haiku #327

a spot of shade
our dogs waiting there
to be let inside

Haiku #326

stretches a long time
on its way to the food bowl:
yellow cat

Haiku #325

in the ancient church
the sound of a fly buzzing
from an unknown place

Haiku #324

a quiet boat ride
an egret flies over us
toward the shade

Friday, August 06, 2010

Haiku #323

lily pads
the wind picks them up
I hold onto my straw hat

Monday, August 02, 2010

Haiku #322

Sitting on the porch in the afternoon:

miserable heat
above, sweet call of the wren
we still complain



About Me

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Northwest Ohio, United States
"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken


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Fave Painting: Eden

Fave Painting:  Eden

Fave Painting: The Three Ages of Man and Death

Fave Painting:  The Three Ages of Man and Death
by Albrecht Dürer

From the First Chapter

The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

My Original Artwork: Triptych

My Original Artwork:  Triptych



Little Deer

Little Deer



Looking Forward, Looking Back

Looking Forward, Looking Back

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