Category: city

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

City…Please tell me which image you like best!

Beautiful Baltimore Harbor

I couldn’t resist taking these photos on June 10th after attending the Candlelight Vigil for Ms. Good at Mckeldin Square. Although there is evil in this world, beauty is everywhere.

Pigeons

I’m an urban naturalist. That means that I love my city (Baltimore) and enjoy wandering around looking at its denizens-pigeons, squirrels, sparrows, starlings, seagulls, and the occasional cardinal and junco ( a sparrow size bird with white belly and black head). There is a pigeon roost near me-an abandoned building with concrete bricks that the pigeons adore. Here’s some pictures!

water weaves waves

water weaves waves
reflecting brick and weeds
window refracting sun
sprinkling light
on playful crests
weaving water waves

After the Storm, 6 A.M. East 7th Street

DSC00680 Pale silver sky
reflects on black iron.
Fire escape raindrops
slowly illuminate
this visceral world.
Birds’ babble,
laughter
rises with mist
from the street below.
I smile and
close my eyes
in calm satisfaction.

I lie still
between soft, worn
cotton sheets,
above spring verdant trees,
mahogany branches,
as lemon glimmers
among
sapphire clouds.
I know the secret
of tiny mosaics
and that
magical
pink metal
laundry box
in the bathroom.
The fire escape ladder,
is my tree house
framed by wet-dark branches
and cobalt curtains.
The rain-bejeweled
fire escape
will take me
directly
to heaven.

Hamburg & Russell Street

Morning,

the young beggar stands,

blanket thrown over narrow shoulders,

flimsy white undershirt,

a pile of rags at his feet.

We in cars ignore him,

cast eyes at ruby stop light,

and rising cobalt sky.

Escaped sunflower,

sits in a car, a

moon faced woman

w/ styled bob,

reads her cell phone.

Wheeling seagulls

search for garbage.

Undershirt,

dull khaki jeans,

work boots,

he smokes the 2nd cigarette of the day,

carefully counts them out.

He carries his sign

with jaunty steps,

but

his eyes

are hollow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

full moon recall

dream
salt sea foam
clams scurry
dig themselves
into sand
as the waves recede
we are young
i wrap
burgundy and cobalt
gauze scarf
about my torso
my nipples show
i reach out
to touch
your silken sandy curls
as cigarette smoke
sinuously rises
your voice rumbles
weakens my knees