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Lifesongs
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Mother Earth: Greatest Poet of All
Her poetry is beauty and music in motion, Her breeze, multi-lingual, a continual re-visioning. Some days she brings her power to the page As an aromatic out-breath. Other days she rains soft tears, or hails A jazzy rendition, a syncopated beat against tin roofs, Or sings through wintry-whispers: The sting and silence of snow. Mother’s…
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Sharp Sticks Grow On Rooted Trees
“I’m hurt, Mom,” said Cosmo, my eleven-year-old son, when he opened the front door. Blood seeped from his ear. “What happened?” “I ran into a sharp tree limb.” With a wash cloth and hydrogen peroxide, I slowed the flow of blood. “Is he gonna lose his ear, Mom? Omg, he’s gonna be like Vincent Van Gogh,”…
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Love Still Falls Like Sawdust
Pioneer Tree Service, father and son, their roots carved deep, strip the limbs off my neighbor’s fifty-foot cedars.