on Memorial Day
#crossingover #giftoflife #living #memorialday #momentomori #now #remember
It arrives on a warm white cloud. It arrives on soft rolls of ocean waves along a sand pebbled shore. It arrives on a bed
If he could see you now. Really see you. Take you entirely in. As you are now, in these days, places
A sure sign of soon-coming Summer. Another sweet, salt-aired Summer.
To ask your Self. In the still of the night, whether bright-starred or half-mooned. In the midst of the day,
Those many, sung and unsung, who gave themselves, often gave up their lives, to fight, in wars,
The only thing warm tonight in the deep winter sky ~ and soon to occlude. The Wolf Moon, Ice Moon, Old Moon.
Sunny jaunts, now-and-again treats, with cousins, siblings; and parents along but somehow invisible.
As I awakened to this morning, eyes still closed, I was thinking of you, long-gone Mom and Dad,
When the Moon moves between our Sun, Earth and up-raised eyes, through the long-held breath of our wisdom-keepers,
The Maine woods. The coastal woods. Where coming into Spring he resides, is at home. Where he keeps a fire burning
Burnished at first, then blemished— an earthly foreshadowing. Then bearded for a while.
Good to mark it each year on the world’s calendar. But I celebrate it every day.
Quite a sight to behold: a woman of sun, reclining on the grass, in a meadow, abundantly recumbent, hair and limbs lush with heat
Fog pours in through the half-open windows. Fills our small bedroom by the bay. Pools
Once cloud-high mountains, shaped and worn from hundreds of millions of rainfalls, windfalls, frosts. Rounded now