the Merrimack: Pauper Cemetery, Revisited

'What a peculiar fascination,' one would say. Yet, looking at it with morning eyes, I would have it no other way! Each and everyone, designed to suffer. And, once gone, only pillared stories remain. Tales of wanting to rule our world.   In proper, pauper, place, every name, one in the same. The convicts that … Continue reading the Merrimack: Pauper Cemetery, Revisited

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Painting Between the Lines

As bland as the day has been.  There are footsteps of color that can engross every corner of the daunted mind! “A picture is not thought out and settled beforehand. While it is being done it changes as one's thoughts change. And when it is finished, it still goes on changing, according to the state … Continue reading Painting Between the Lines

Gathering Leaves – Robert Frost

Spades take up leaves No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons. I make a great noise Of rustling all day Like rabbit and deer Running away. But the mountains I raise Elude my embrace, Flowing over my arms And into my face. I may load and unload Again and … Continue reading Gathering Leaves – Robert Frost

White on White

I can feel the sun calling me. Here from my deck. 'Come, let us play catch.' Though my blindfolds are not pixels, contrast and such. White on white is my disposition... And, that is a colorblind far worse than being... A poet without a pen. A photo without charm. An artist without a doubter's den. … Continue reading White on White

Feathering Milk Weed

Cedar shakes. Pastoral dreams. Enlightenment dangling... Somehow, in between. A simple gift given among the fire reds...and, rich greens. Decadent dirt roads providing me with a diversity. A luring contrast among all rights. And, all the wrongs. With enough summer windows closed. Frost against my pain. Much of the disquiet is not where my searching … Continue reading Feathering Milk Weed