Blustery Morning.

“Why I Wake Early,” by Jane Hirshfield

I wake early, make two cups of coffee, drink one, think, go back to sleep, wake again, think, drink the other.

To start a day over is a card game played for no money, a ripe tomato, a swimming cat.

Time here: lukewarm, with milk and sugar, big and unset as a table.

I wake twice.

Twice the window unbroken, transparent.

​Twice the cat’s nose and ears above water.

Twice the war (my war) is distant, its children’s children are distant.

Rose Hips, Snow, 3/21/2018

Yellow rose, Wytheville, VA, 8/19/2017

Tea with the Poet (dialogue with @soulreserve) Murmurs over a cup of tea, A heart half-hid, not all can see: Her heart obscured in formulary, And veiled beneath arcane vocabulary. Yet warm within, her heart beats strong, Love, joy, and passion her inner song. Her words be freed of technical efficiency, Woman whole again--the gift of poetry.

I catch your scent,

Am breathless.

I hear you whisper,

Am speechless.

I dream of you,

Am defenseless.

Come morning,

I am bereft.

I cannot hold you.

@soulreserve

dreams full

I’ve held on to you

In fists-full

In breaths-full

In dreams-full

© SoulReserve 2018

Rain-Washed Street Tree Stump and Fungi I, 9/6/2017, Maplewood, New Jersey (IPad photo with a bit of adjustment.)

Digital Play #4: Late Autumn, 12/09/2017.

Clouds, 7 PM July 7, 2017, Parsippany, NJ.

“Do you ever feel your life has turned into something you never intended?”

Nocturnal animals, Tom Ford, 2016