What will she become
The close friends ponder
She is one
She scoots on the floor
Points her tiny forefinger
Has learned to wave
Goodbye, hello

Hello little Caroline
Get your Ph.D. Be an engineer or a botanist or a genetics professor
Play the piano
Dance
Thrive

And if you choose to live in a tree
That is fine with me.

Violets in Your Front Yard

February 28, 2017

I walk gingerly
Keep my balance on stepping stones
Play hopscotch in the grass
For you raise violets
In your front yard

Caroline

February 28, 2017

Caroline
Caroline
You are one
Caroline

Caroline
Caroline
You are fine
Caroline

Caroline
Caroline
You are fun
Caroline

Caroline
Caroline
You will run
Caroline

Caroline
Caroline
You will become
Caroline

Still Life

February 19, 2017

Wainwright and Millet
I am in your still life.
I, too, spin
Arrange lemons and oranges on an old farm table
Delicate irises, strong daffodils in vases
Pretend I am living in another age
Where I can knit before a hearth,
Open real shutters,
Hang herbs from dark wooden beams
I pretend I live in a time and place with deep windowsills
Where I rock a baby in a handmade cradle with my foot
Read a story out loud to friends
I pretend I am a still life
Painted into a scene
When I dodge accidents on the interstate
Reel from political frenzy
Barely survive our  frantic pace.

No wonder few still life’s remain
In our culture
There is no such thing.

“I see the moon
The moon sees me
The moon sees the One
That I long to see.
God bless the moon
And God bless me
God bless the One
That I long to see.”

“I’m being followed by a Moon-Shadow.”
–Cat Stevens

I bathe
I pray
I bask
In the Moon’s Rays

I see God
Standing on tiptoe
Looking down on me

My Valentine
My poignant Lover
My Moon-Shadow