stones to cherish, hopefully not stumble over, ultimately be happy "it's written in stone"
Showing posts with label aros. Show all posts
Showing posts with label aros. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
THE RIVER IS WIDE AND NOW CROSSED OVER
This is the last day of winter's virtual river of stones 2012.I imagine I can see each large smooth pebble placed carefully next to each other large smooth pebble, differing only slightly in size and shades of grey. It's only upon close examination that one can also see, etched very faintly on each stone, a few words, a phrase - possibly a poem. The words are, after all, written in stone, just as I'd hoped at the start ...
Monday, January 30, 2012
GETTING CAUGHT UP - Part Two
Day 26
BRUISED SKIES
The new moon, the size of a slim cuticle, here in this
part of the hemisphere shows as a sly grin against
Arizona's bruised sunset skies - all mauves, dove-grey and
faint apricot bleeding out ...
Day 27
LAST DAY IN PALM SPRINGS
We did the aerial tram yesterday ... very high and fast but worth it ...
Today, the art-museum - lots of Henry Moore - a surprise;
lots of other sculptures too. Just missed an Andrew Wyeth exhibition - sadly,
but enjoyed touring downtown, walking on the granite stars of celebrities
and humanitarians - mostly one and the same.
Today, the art-museum - lots of Henry Moore - a surprise;
lots of other sculptures too. Just missed an Andrew Wyeth exhibition - sadly,
but enjoyed touring downtown, walking on the granite stars of celebrities
and humanitarians - mostly one and the same.
Day 28
SILVER WINGS TO HOME
Tiny children all around; I fear for their ears on this flight -
know the toll altitude takes on same but remarkably these babes travel well.
Large brown eyes regard my husband seriously through the crack
in the seats ahead of us - no smiling, just studying as the thumb goes in.
know the toll altitude takes on same but remarkably these babes travel well.
Large brown eyes regard my husband seriously through the crack
in the seats ahead of us - no smiling, just studying as the thumb goes in.
Day 29
WOLF WELCOME
There's nothing to compare to the unconditional welcoming
love of your dog.Farley bounds into the house (after a week at his "cousins") does his peculiar backing into me for hugs and sideways licks on my face, wiggles all over his body ...goes between us numerous times
before taking up his regular spot by the front window to survey his domain.
love of your dog.Farley bounds into the house (after a week at his "cousins") does his peculiar backing into me for hugs and sideways licks on my face, wiggles all over his body ...goes between us numerous times
before taking up his regular spot by the front window to survey his domain.
Day 30
BACK TO WORK
Holiday over; time to settle into a different life. He' s retired. I'm ...
at loose ends,trying hard not to fall down the rabbit-hole again
but not sure just what it is I want to do.Know it will involve writing
and most likely poetry but am not sure how much or how to dive back in.
Film at eleven.
at loose ends,trying hard not to fall down the rabbit-hole again
but not sure just what it is I want to do.Know it will involve writing
and most likely poetry but am not sure how much or how to dive back in.
Film at eleven.
GETTING CAUGHT UP
A Mighty Wind
Not at all what I expected, this desert wind
That howled down the valleys between the San Jacinto
And Santa Rosa Mountains, kicking up dust-storms thicker
than any blizzards I've experienced. Welcome to Palm Springs.
Day 22
A Mighty Wind Part II
The small silver rental shook so violently
I was sure we would join the other airborne flotsam
at any moment; we watched, amazed as agent palm-trees
shook and shed their bark like hula-skirts.
Day 23
A Mighty Wind - The Aftermath
Driving through affluent neighbourhood after gated
community,then occasionally hitting a poorer section
of this up-scale part of the country, one thing typified
all of them - the carnage. In addition to mounds of
palm fronds and bark, there were many old-growth
trees totally uprooted and laid out as if plucked out
and laid out as if plucked casually by some careless
giant, then tossed aside ...
Day 24
Growing Windmills
Driving Interstate 10, you're on them before you quite
know what they are and might be forgiven for thinking
all these white sticks leaning every which way (from one
direction that's certainly how they appear at ground level)
are an odd game of Pick-Up-Sticks. It's not until viewed
from the air that the dead-straight rows testify to the
veracity of the sight, "The Windmill Growing Farm" - not
at all difficult to believe someone's devised a way to
harvest all that wind.
Day 25
Desert View
For years he's been telling me how beautiful the desert is,
how he can't wait for me to see it. Now, today - we are
driving from Palm Springs to Mesa and back - ten hours of
nothing but desert and I see what he means - it is a scene
from an old western - the highway and the cars look out of
place. Everything else - the endless sand, the scrub-brush,
the rounded mountains shimmering in the distance - they're all
perfect under a blue sky that's surreal ... no habitation, no houses,
no animals... this is the desert.
Friday, January 20, 2012
HANG-DOG LOOK
He knows we're going away;
our suitcases lie open,
half-filled with summer things.
He lies, inert - liquid brown eyes
the only part of him moving,
He lies, inert - liquid brown eyes
the only part of him moving,
follow my every move.
Occasionally he gives
Occasionally he gives
a sigh so human-like, it's uncanny.
If dogs can look particularly sad -
that's the look he's giving me.
If dogs can look particularly sad -
that's the look he's giving me.
S.E.Ingraham©
Day 20
Thursday, January 19, 2012
BOOKSTORE LOVE
lost in the aisles, time becomes immaterial;
new titles are poetry and art combined
a bookstore is a sanctuary, a cathedral
a place of holiness - the scent of ink and paper
real or imagined - fills me up
S.E.Ingraham©
Day 19
LAUNDRY DAY
scents of lilac, wintergreen, faint
wisps of ammonia too ... a riot of colours
tumble by the dryer door window
to the clink-clink-clank
of buttons and zippers making music
S.E.Ingraham
Day 18
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
DINNER OUT
Familiar aromas blossom into the
parking lot as we struggle out of the car
and into our local eatery. A mixture
of seafood lasagna, liver and onions
and something I can't quite distinguish
mingles with a wind-chill factor
that freezes flesh in less than a minute;
we scoot inside and into a booth in
record time.
S.E.Ingraham
Day 17
Monday, January 16, 2012
RELUCTANT SEASON
As if loath to settle in here this year
winter, after many false starts, finally
came in earnest last night, stealing through
the darkness like a thief, swallowing warmth
left lurking from an autumn that had out-stayed
its welcome, true winter brought wind-chill
temperatures and snow with a bite.
S.E.Ingraham
Day 16
Sunday, January 15, 2012
ART GALLERY
On the wall we hang art from friends
and acquaintances, all of it brilliant - some
of straight-forward, beautiful; some of it
enigmatic, challenging, difficult to understand
and all the more beautiful because of that ...
S.E.Ingraham©
Saturday, January 14, 2012
FORMS
Drafts of poems - lines and words,
scribbles of ink, dribbled across
scraps of paper drift across
the table ... examples of work
done, and still to be done, in
this business of poetry.
S.E.Ingraham©
Friday, January 13, 2012
LINING UP
The airport line-up snakes around
the velvet ropes; all sizes, shapes and ages
of traveller trying to maintain their cool
as yet another delay is called to a long-over-due
trip.
S.E.Ingraham
Day 13
Thursday, January 12, 2012
RAINBOW HOUSES
In a show we watched about St.John's
the camera kept panning the streets
and I remembered all the different coloured
houses there; how paint that doesn't sell
elsewhere in the country gets sent to
that far eastern province (at least that's
the story)and so a mustard house stands
next to an emerald green one that's next
to a violet one and so on - it's made even
more remarkable when contrasted with
the typically grey skies overhead.
S.E.Ingraham©
Day 12
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
MAUVE MAGIC
Tucked in the corner of the desk-mat
a photo of mauve flea-bane, so cheerful
with their velvety button centres; in this
unusually warm winter, they look as if I
might have picked them just yesterday.
S.E.Ingraham©
Day 11
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
FORTUNE COOKIE?
My Chinese scroll calendar is brightly festooned
with animals of the Asian zodiac; I like how
we're romping into 2012 with a chubby pink ox,
a lime dragon, and an unusually festive mauve rat.
S.E.Ingraham©
Day 7
AN ENDEARING MOON
The moon, the colour of pale butter
or real cream is lop-sided tonight
in an endearing way, as if Luna being
anything but less than perfect is
somehow endearing.
S.E.Ingraham
Day 10
or real cream is lop-sided tonight
in an endearing way, as if Luna being
anything but less than perfect is
somehow endearing.
S.E.Ingraham
Day 10
Monday, January 9, 2012
TWILIGHT SKIES
Never the same colour two
Nights in a row;
Tonight I see the tree branches
Etched against dove-grey
Now shifting slightly
To darker pewter,
Now slate
Sunday, January 8, 2012
EULOGY FOR A TREE
The dead birch is coming down today
Thwack! Thwack! An axe hitting hardwood
Refusing to turn to mush sounds the death-knell
Of a once proud tree; curls of white bark
fall like tears.
S.E.Ingraham©
Day 7
Friday, January 6, 2012
WINGED PEGASUS NO LONGER
Out of smoke thicker than thunder
clouds they galloped; aglow and beautiful,
outlined in flame—their manes and tails
flickering surreally bright as they burned—.
It took us long moments to realize the horses
were actually ablaze, caught in a winter grass fire
as fierce and bewildering as it was deadly...
The animals, trapped and confused,
were running to their deaths.
S.E.Ingraham©
Day 6
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
GLINTING SILVER
In the dimly lit bathroom mirror
a crone peers at her,
someone she barely
recognizes; will not look at straight
on for fear of knowing ...
silver hair glints in the moonlight.
S.E.Ingraham©
Day 4
Monday, January 2, 2012
SMALL STONE FROG
No larger than my thumbnail,
the colour of tea,
just one of
hundreds - possibly more -
a teeny frog stays still
on the pebbled beach,
camouflaged perfectly in the sun.
S.E.Ingraham©
Day 2
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