Lines in the Red Book

Out of time? There is always time. But what do you make time for? That is the real question.

The Window

“Where does the window go?” she asked, staring through spider web panes and dusty cross beams.

The world gray with murky glass and tiny cracks shot (to soul) from edge to edge.

What does the window see with clouded eye, transfixed with grime and dust?

and now for something else entirely... have some popcorn!

here is a little book that doesn’t know what it’s about is making it up as it goes along, from page to page... but is there a difference?

Little Book lying open

here is a little book with a cover made of cherries stitched through with witchy tiny threads.

here is a little book with pages spread wide flying into the world quietly.

here is a little book with a flimsy button clasp keeping fast the whimsy tucked inside.

Lakeshore Wandering the lakeshore on a September day

We wander hand in hand, along cracked shale at the water’s lapping edge.

We listen to the whisper of waves and humming of the roadway.

She toddles past pebbles, stoops to pluck a single bloom from a scraggly stalk.

We step over latticed roots washed dry by the lake’s receding tide.

We choose one rock, then two, till soon my bag is full, with one corner torn.