Category: Journal
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26 July: of Leather & Weather
a journal 26 July — The Road Trip Prelude 04:somethingThe sun arrived first,prying open the day with gold-tipped fingers.I gathered dew from the garden — tiny pearls of morning —then let sleep pull me back like a tide reclaiming shells. 07:30Bamboo.Not a sentence — just a word.A baptism by syllable.It struck the silence like a…
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25 July: of Leather & Weather
a journal 10:33Ode to the Repairman Who Mistook ‘Noon’ for ‘Never’You said “morning” —which, in the dialect of hammers,must translate to:I’ll arrive when the moon divorces the tides. 11:14He arrived three hours late,bearing the holy wrench of redemption.Fixed the Quooker with a prophet’s calm,then drank three cups of tea,as if each sip was a sacramentto…
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25 July: Journal of Thoughts
Where the Heart Goes Then, without warning, the sky splits its seams,dumping light like stolen jewels,and we gulp the calm,foolish as sailorskissing the shorethat will betray them again. Happiness is a spider’s bridge,spun between gunshots. And still the heart—ever the fugitive—steals into the next verse,into the next stranger’s mouth,into the next wardisguised as lullaby. It…
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22 July: Journal of Thoughts
A Chip, We Cried The French cried “Mais non! We made pommes frites!” But history winced and called them twits.For Belgium fried the golden wand,In oil so deep, so rich, so fond. They claimed the name, those saucy Gauls,While Britons munched in seaside stalls.“A chip,” we cried, “not frites, you fool!”Then wrapped them hot in…
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15 July: Journal of Thoughts
The Wind that Carries Him She gave him roots.She gave him wings.Gave her bones quietto rememberhow much growing costs. Forget-me-nots, bright as sky —be in my heart.Bluebells for your kindness,lavender for your calm,hydrangea to returnwhat love never asks back. She gave her tears permission—not to break,but to blessthe wind that carries him. Some artwork is…
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14 July: Journal of Thoughts
The Leaving All the signs are there.Shoes on.Backpack zipped and closed. Bottle of water chilling in the freezer. But this isn’t Monday.This is Friday.He’s meeting a friend in London. For dinner.A beer or three.A steak maybe. Says he’ll be back before midnight —Can you pick me up at the station?And of course I will. But…
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27 June: Calder’s Circus of Air
A choreography of shadow and balance. These poems trace the kinetic hush of Alexander Calder’s mobiles: laughter forged in wire, physics caught mid-lilt, and the unseen air that puppeteers grace from stillness. Best read with music that understands whimsy and weightlessness. Hit play, then read. Calder’s Circus of Air Imagine the shape of laughtercast in…
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23 June: Journal of Thoughts
Liturgy for a Southern Virginia Rain I. The Invocation of Rainit falls through the sieve of live oak,birch, and maple—not a baptism so much asa mending.Each drop stitches the airto the earthwith threads of warm silver. II. And Then the Chasea cursive argument betweentwo lizards, they dart acrossthe fence’s warped spine— they know what we…
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19 June: Journal of Thoughts
Baptism in Green Ink The forest pours itselfinto your lungs—petrichor sacrament,rain’s wet loom weavingyour hair with the oak’sslow, conspiratorial gossip. Cicadas drive golden nailsinto the hour’s spine.You, half-woman, half-wanting,let thunder tune your ribsto its grey-tongued timpani. And the green—oh, that vicious green—how it sculpts your mindinto a cathedral of moss,how shadows lick their teethbefore kneeling…
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17 June: Journal of Thoughts from Last Week
A few weeks ago, a flail mower came through the lane. This is what remains. And After the Flail Mower, the Wind Said … the earth knows grief—how it pools in your palms like rainwater,heavy with severed rootsand the startled silence of neststorn open too soon. You are allowed this sorrow—because the world tries to…
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