How Could I Know? #writephoto


If you stay on one side

and I the other

how will I know the color of your eyes

what tune your voice plays when your words lilt into the air?

How will I know if humor is one of your senses

or if the shoes you wear have traveled far?

I want to know what made you grow

and what kept you stagnant

what made you smile

and what made you weep

If you stay on one side

and I the other

how would I ever be



Dive into My Center – #writephoto


image by Kerfe at

Dive into my center

past the bog of obstacles,

the sharp edges,

the pointed arrows.

Peel this artichoke

layer by layer

leaf by leaf

through tiny thorns.

See past the choke

into the light

of my waiting heart.


image credit




To Taste the Smells of Distant Shores


To taste the smells of distant shores

contents of wares within wooden crates

heaved on sturdy shoulders

to reach my hand between the wooden slats

and feel the relics

like silk between my fingers

those tastes of memories.


To taste the smells of distant shores

teas and spices peddled by steadfast merchants

exotic oils purified and funneled into blue glass bottles

the dusty threads of ancient Persian carpets

woven by still, sure hands

the taste of skill and craftsmanship

of those who came before.


I want to taste the smells of distant shores

the ports of entries open

for senses to rouse

for eyes to open

in harbors safe

a saving grace

exposure to

the new.


Image credit

Farewell, Poet, And the Seasons will Mend


And now September burns the careful tree
That builds each year the leaf and bark again
With solemn care and rounded certainty
That nothing lives which seasons do not mend.

The young are never robbed of innocence
But given gold of love and memory.
We live in wealth whose bounds exceed our sense,
And when we die are full of memory.

by Donald Hall


Mr. Hall died last Saturday, June 30th. He was 89.


photo credit

 read the tribute here