Last Day at La Muse, Labastide Esparbairenque, July 2019

Le Montagne Noire, Languedoc July 2019


Stone walls march 

up the mountain side

beside cliffs of the same 

granite. Stone chipped 

and stacked by hands long gone.

Walking the gravel road 

I can almost see them, those farmers

hands calloused and bleeding, 

carrying tons of rock 

to surround their fields.

Here in the mountains,

under the deep dome of sky, 

time drips slow honey.

Chartreuse lichen and succulents 

with flowers blue and yellow

cling to surfaces, not caring 

if nature or human-made.

Bees rise up buzzing, 

hours hang sweet in the air,

apricots waiting to be picked. 




National Poetry Month: April 7, 2015

NaPoWriMo Prompt: So today, I challenge you to write about money! It could be about not having enough, having too much (a nice kind of problem to have), the smell, or feel, or sensory aspects of money. It could also just be a poem about how we decide what has value or worth.

Day 7


At home she sees kids on the street everyday,
but here in Paris, with the Eiffel Tower
shining over her shoulder,
she can’t watch them sitting, hands outstretched.
She asks for a euro, thinking perhaps, it equals a quarter.
I don’t tell her it’s more than a dollar.
 “Tonight is too cold for someone to sleep hungry,” she says,
and I am filled with the light of her
as she bends, dark hair swooping over her face,
dropping the coin into his waiting palm.

National Poetry Month: April 5, 2015

Today's NaPoWriMo Prompt: Find an Emily Dickinson poem - preferably one you've never previously read  - and take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose. Now, rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem out of it!

Gulp! Who am I to tamper with the great Emily's words? I didn't follow the directions completely...

Day 5: 

Before I got my eye put out – (336)

Before I got my eye put out –
I liked as well to see
As other creatures, that have eyes –
And know no other way –

But were it told to me, Today,
That I might have the Sky
For mine, I tell you that my Heart
Would split, for size of me –

The Meadows – mine –
The Mountains – mine –
All Forests – Stintless stars –
As much of noon, as I could take –
Between my finite eyes –

The Motions of the Dipping Birds –
The Morning’s Amber Road –
For mine – to look at when I liked,
The news would strike me dead –

So safer – guess – with just my soul
Upon the window pane
Where other creatures put their eyes –
Incautious – of the Sun –

Dear Emily #33

the sun
comes up
fueling morning’s
amber road
it is mine
to look at when
I like
it is mine
to share
with dipping birds
or other
are mine
the sky
of stintless stars
has split
my heart in two

National Poetry Month: April 4, 2015

Today's Prompt from NaPoWriMo: So today, I challenge you to write a "loveless" love poem...and if you're not in the mood for love? Well, the flip-side of the love poem - the break-up poem...If that's more your speed at present, try writing one of those, but again, avoid thunder, rain, and lines beginning with a plaintive "why"? Try to write a poem that expresses the feeling of love or lovelorn-ness without the traditional trappings you associate with the subject matter.

Day 4:


I bent to pick up the socks,
black skins dropped where he had sat.
Anger burrowed into me unexpected, and I knew.
Here was nothing left to hold or caress.
My hands like strangers dropped
those limp scraps right back onto the floor.