what is it about
an orchid that makes it so
blessedly profound?

as shoots, buds and green
in my own yard continue
to wait for warmer numbers,
I visit exotic plants
in a cement cave
called "Smithsonian"

grocery list:

milk
zucchini
almonds
time
fat-free raspberry dressing
chicken
laughs
yogurt
peace

outside I smell spring
squirrels nest in the patio
a new day answers

I can almost imagine
the bluebells returning;
I can almost remember
wanting to talk,
thinking you were listening
I can almost dream
I'm barefoot

what is it about
the full moon, coaxing me from
sleep, budding me to toss
and turn on what feels
like the longest night ever

I have a wonderful relationship
with my sewing machine

we actually have quite a history,
you know

we (mostly I) share secrets
many hours
some tears
and a whole lot of progress

This is where I retreat,
which is what I do more
often than I ought,
when other stuff
is falling apart.

unlike broken bones,
broken hearts mend
without a cast

yet another spectacular sunrise
this morning,
I am torn between feeling unworthy
and thinking I need to be fully awake
every morning at dawn,
so as to not miss out

knees were made for days
that begin like this

simple lines
printed on fabric,
how could something
so gentle and exquisite
be mass produced?
if it were my hand
that made these marks
I don't know if I'd
be able to share

the car wash makes me
happy; I used to worry what if
the windows break or the brushes
scratch the paint or how about if
a window leaks or if I lose a mirror
or the antenna
but now it makes me happy,
and when you find a place
that for $7.95 (deluxe) makes
you happy,
go
for
it!

to hurt for someone
else, it's a gift and a curse
feeling blue with you

wishes and prayers
it seems like it's not enough
to just hope and pray

is it possible
to keep your feet on the ground
while everything spins?

it's complicated
in life, the way things either
fit just right or not