Friday, November 18, 2011


Shiprock, New Mexico   ~Photo by S. Auberle

Off to the Land of Enchantment and points West, for a while.  Will leave you with a poem from "Crow Ink"...


This morning there were twenty waxwings
in the rowan tree outside my writing room.
The tree's berries are bright
red     cheerful.
Yesterday they danced in snowy gowns
while the wind swirled off the lake.
Today each berry hangs quietly, waiting
to be consumed by voracious birds.

Darkness by four o'clock now
and the ever-shortening days whirl past.
We cook comfort dishes--beef stew,
garlic potatoes     bake chewy, dark bread.
There is wine--red, like berries
and we are busy as the birds,
storing up food and warmth
while the earth turns toward darkness.
Yet time enough to be of good cheer,
savor the meat, the salt and the bread,
dance another of our days away.

Something there is
that says you must know,
we were here...
and oh, how we loved.


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