Every Other Line Of Me There's Something That Hurts

one i ness I lost an L or two along the way

car accident my horoscope lied to me about it being a good day

august heat the shoulder throbbing to its own music

trump rally invite how did I get on the insanity list

goldfinch survives its low flight across a 4-lane highway

last day of school 3 afghan girls walk thru the uncertainty of kabul

every other line of me there's something that hurts

shahada on the new flag what will be the women's testimony after being deserted

childhood family my voice silenced by violence

afghan tragedy words are not enough to save these women

The Taliban Returns

prairie burn the short-eared owl perches on a charred cedar

cave entrance we only go as far as the sunlight will take us

longer days a pair of goldfinches just passing by

spring peepers no way to adjust the volume of their chorus

swollen feet the many reflections of tupelo

cattle egret in the middle of the day both of us at a standstill

red, yellow, orange the indian paintbrush with an autumn palette

the water boatman ferries itself across the pond

cedar apple rust creating its own type of bloom

buckeye butterfly we share a moment on the sandbar

blazing star quenching my thirst for color

frost extends the borders of a red oak leaf

glade reverie in each ladder of success another flower

a grayness follows the farm plow bonaparte's gull

the sugar maples already dressed for winter

Inspired by Natural Events Calendar 2002

STONINGTON HARBOR LIGHT

If you close your eyes, no lighthouse can help you! ~Mehmet Murat Ildan

The trouble with drowning in the mess of your own life is that you're not in any shape to save anyone else. You can't be a lighthouse when you're underwater yourself. ~Lisa Wingate, The Prayer Box

son's essay his handwritten paper travels to the northeast

autumn reverie fog tinged with wood smoke

stonington harbor light great views but we still can't find the car

cell phone buzz a bee here and there

mystery bird the immature goldfinch without its yellow

pumpkin spice candle flickers of inspiration

cast off shoes the lopsided heels of my last hike

a hint of rust in the maple my husband planted

concert about to start after a goldfinch's drink from the fountain