The trip was long, the road was rough, I would do it all over again.

Thank you for being my mother and entrusting me to take this journey with you.

I love you, Mom

she held my hand

and took her last breath

remaining blossoms

*

I snapped the camera just as she turned.  Just after she asked me how old she was.  Just after she said it was impossible that she was going to be ninety.  Just after she declared she was only twenty-seven.

I could see it in her eyes.  The blank stare that sees beyond time yet holds on to the past.  The struggle between here and there.  The movie that ends and credits are rolling.

birthday cake

her reluctance

to blow the candles out

Happy 90th Birthday, Mom!  I love you!

March 3, 2016

For Tommy's wife and children, his best friend Jeff, and all of Tommy's family and friends -



I will survive
the shipwreck
and calla lilies
will bloom
once again

walking through
the butterfly park
I capture
a dragonfly

Seventy years ago today Mom and Dad got married at a very young age.  I wondered how it all would have turned out had they stayed married all this time.  Mom wondered about that too as she told me the story about how she met Dad.  I could see it in her eyes.

first love

the hours and years spent

in that one moment

out of the woods

out of the fog

a crow

the harbour

masked in dense fog

still, the egret

so quick to snatch

its prey

a gentle breeze

spreads a dandelion faerie

far and wide

love is

as simple as that

sun halos

mom says

she doesn't know much

about anything

anymore

black friday
just another day
in the forest

november sunrise

silently inches its way

across the yard

unfolding the morning

one ray at a time

making lemonade

out of a lemon

blood moon

fall

is in the air

and all over

my deck

hot august night

after a super sunset

a super moon

Poets on Site Prompt - what's in the wind

summer 1974

in the middle of the desert

buying an Indian trinket..

a chill runs through our bodies

as the wind howls its haunted past

skyfall

the deafening silence

beyond the shore

It was a holiday, we were at the cabin enjoying morning walks, fresh air, the serene magnificence of the oaks, the blue jays, life...and then the phone rang.

memorial day

it's been five years

since you passed

still, I find it so hard

to move that mountain

Thank you for serving in the Air Force, Dad.  Your eight kids miss you.

first Spring gust

from out of nowhere

a haiku

NaHaiWriMo prompt - bump

Finally, a bit of winter has arrived in Southern California, hurried cars, auto wars, frustrated drivers forgetting the trickery, the slickery of roads, all going home at the same time, the same pace, the same rat race, fighting the sleep in a heap of wet smog, dodging a Beemer who wants to be first, is the worst, all getting there in due time, eventually, but with this rhyme we are all the same, as we drive home together in the rain.

first rain
bumper to bumper
all the way home

Small Stone - Jan 31

The fog rolls in, gently over parched hills, fading the green from the pines, changing browns into grays, turning the familiar scenery into an unknown land, yet adventurous, wanting nothing but the freedom to roam and play out its part, in the uncertainty and inevitable ways of the forest.

withering wind

again mom calls me

mom