It isn’t the robin who draws me He only sings for the spring Or the ruby-throated hummer I don’t miss til I see her again It’s not the starling or the jay It’s not even the song sparrow It isn’t bluebird or indigo bunting Or even the friendly junco Who perches on snow-laden boughs Graces… Continue reading It Isn’t the Robin
Life exists in moments we’re dying in between but living – this living –thrives from joy to joy Each joy carries us under its wing safe, protected for awhile from the harsh wind and from circling vultures, biding their time. They know – and we know – we are walking carrion. Our passions wasting –… Continue reading Dying In Between
Storytellers – almost all – when food and drink abound, in loosened tongues and memories long-hidden, long-removed. It births among us belly-laughs and tears that flood deep spaces as we recall unfathomable names and times and places. Every person in this room a sacred mystery of love and loss, of hope and fear – a… Continue reading Storytellers Almost All
One million moments - inkless I've avoided me too long Because I can't avoid you Or anything that's wrong To write it is to understand Or at least to try To speak it is to give it shape To give it breath and life Let it rest between us now Let the broken be Give… Continue reading Inkless
Yes, the above photo IS Lake Superior. From my personal collection of photos taken by a non-photographer. 🙂 A short for you this morning -- I'm not sure whether I'm finished with this poem, but I thought I might as well share it anyway. As always, I love your comments, questions, suggestions. ***** The fog… Continue reading The Fog Upon Superior
Sarah Elizabeth Moore 