Squirrel Monster
Category: memory
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.
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.
Grief
morning
pink morning sky
a cardinal drops by
Inspiration by Internet
Recently I watched several videos of watercolor painting and decided to try a looser hand than I normally use. I played with this in my studio while dreaming of warmer days.
Grace
Placid waves
wash warm
Over toes, knees,
belly to breasts.
Drink in sun.
Float
cotton-candy clouds
framing
rose,
lemon,
sapphire
sky.
6/3/2015
Spring is the time of death.
Look out the windows;
Mist and memory drift
from the verdant hills.
At road’s curb,
mangled
bat wing
slate sky.
I drive.
Death lays.
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
Release
I will not keep
the rose and ochre
shells
and ebony skate egg case.
I’ll throw them back
to the sea.
Release
and
redemption.
gaia mouse 