Rainwashed

rainwashed morning sky could last until dusk all low smooth silver and smoke elm queen shakes out her tresses daughter plum shyly offers a branch blue black asphalt path, too, shines here, the cedar fence there, willow trellis peonies contemplate sun to come reach leaves glow yellow, red, burgundy forecasting and remembering fall even here,…

In the Woods

We all have our comfort zones. Mine used to be in the woods of our farm, where all the paths were known and peopled with stories and songs. This summer, my sister and i walked those woods again, with our daughters. The girls came and found us, actually; they’d headed out to explore, and felt…