Saturday, August 10, 2024

Postcard from Mars


To Whom,

That air you have about you! Such immeasurable glow. You carry it well, a blush, a fresh coif. And your body—so inhabited? I call out from my desert(ed!) soul, warred by wind and sand. Oh, the memories, thinned, erased!

If I could tell you what I once knew—
If my grief could save you—

M.



NASA image of Earth from Mars. From site: This is the first image ever taken of Earth from the surface of a planet beyond the Moon. It was taken by the Mars Exploration Rover Spirit one hour before sunrise on the 63rd martian day, or sol, of its mission. Earth is the tiny white dot in the center. The image is a mosaic of images taken by the rover's navigation camera showing a broad view of the sky, and an image taken by the rover's panoramic camera of Earth. The contrast in the panoramic camera image was increased two times to make Earth easier to see. https://photojournal.jpl.nasa.gov/catalog/PIA05560     Photo Credit:NASA/JPL/Cornell



Source: NASA Earth Observatory image by Robert Simmon, using Suomi NPP VIIRS imagery from NOAA's Environmental Visualization Laboratory.

I've had this sitting in my "drafts" file for years. Never published it, I guess because the photos weren't mine...

Thursday, March 2, 2017

The Garden Path

My yard—so fully there, so walked over. This willow, this view, every day in every light. Tree weeping, garden tarped, still bare—but nothing about it disappoints.


Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Stopping by

A long time gone, the past vaguer. Suites of seasons, rivers, poems, skies, quiet rooms. Upheavals, of earth and lives. A lost earring. A trail of decay. Then something new happens.


                                

Sunday, August 14, 2016

Morning after storm


A tiny gust shakes raindrops loose from the platter leaves
of maple—high and local, just there, and then, over there, too.






Monday, May 16, 2016

Nothing to do


Oh, Friends! 

Might we too sprawl into being

like a place or a moment?





Photo: Howard Street, May 2013

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Refuge


To it, my mere line, so rarely an avenue. 

Always ahead, the door.

Never entirely closed.





Saturday, May 14, 2016

Paused

I will be going, says the chill rain. When the light turns, it will be Spring. 




This entry is from April 11 2016. I forgot to post it. But please note, the light did turn!

Friday, May 13, 2016

Lot's wife

I've looked back so many times. Into a blur of photographs, into an old house. Crowds of loves and selves I have not been able to bring along! How many more times will I have to leave? The present is a shore for refugees.



Monday, April 11, 2016

The articulate,

the wordless evening, 
when the far comes near 
and time walks over the earth 
like a large bright animal


This post originally titled Everything under the sun

Sunday, March 27, 2016

Shall be released

I am saved by it each spring anew. A mighty power opens the earth to become Scilla, my asterisk,
whose footnote says, True blue.*

*It means: I will always return to you.



(Easter Sunday, 4:08 pm DST)

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Box of dreams

She circled it until it erupted.





Sunday, February 14, 2016

The fresh world

received by the mirror of art.

A mutual love
always in exchange.



This post originally titled, Love always pouring forth.



Wednesday, January 27, 2016

If you would write a letter to the moon

There have always been the two of you. The light inside
is the shy friend who tries on the cape of sky. The other
is the mirror. Every word spoken between you is a loop.



Monday, January 18, 2016

Strange land

In this state, the seasons are loosely translated.




Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Just so

A particular morning. 
Like the first morning, plus a house. 
Oh morning, you have never failed 
the world. And today 
you are looked at from a window.





Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Epiphany

Mist, wind, and rain have travelled to these hills from distant places. The line that separates the heavens from the earth has almost disappeared. The firs keep pointing to the sky though there is no star.





Sunday, January 3, 2016

Memorial

The end of the year challenges with its weight. How much of what's gone can a person shoulder? Whether carried openly or concealed?

But here comes the future sparkling.



Saturday, December 26, 2015

Let nothing you dismay

The cat loped home from the far-away when I struck the bell of his name, and love bounded out to meet him. A memory arrived in the same way, as did the day.





Thursday, December 24, 2015

The tiny many

In my cabinet of earth's weathers, shelves of leaf and dew uncatalogued. The label would say, I do not forget you.







Wednesday, December 16, 2015

A yellow flower's view

Wan sun. Still, it's something to follow in the blank skies of winter. Unless it snows. Those flakes and the night's stars don't mean as much to me.