As we begin
rain falls from fog through sleeping branches (frail, broken sticks?), soaks with slippery ease into soil to restore them Note: …
Author Archives: 5h2o
2019, my Dad and coming back
2019 was a year that was filled with loss for me and my family – a dear aunt, my step …
Tanka for working from home
In interesting times, I write at my son’s old desk cut into his closet stuffed with childhood remnants curse, avalanche …
To my Aunt Cathy
Originally posted on Poems from in between:
It was as we played king of the raft — bobbing the way it did, always…
Pond and Brook
I leave my Pond and Brook by the bedside, with its buzzing mayflies, fin-splashed surface, amoeba-soaked beach, and head downstairs, …
The hill faraway
The hill stands innocent as it always has – empty now, or perhaps drowsily crossed by weekend strollers. What is …
The history of my way through water
Does water remember as I make my way across her on this diagonal again? I clear a wake, paddles’ light …
Finding things lost
I no longer trust myself having searched all morning for the missing piece in our endless jigsaw and come up …
My father’s spade
leaning on a box in my cluttered breezeway my father’s spade pants, grip worn smooth, tail twitching, eager for his …
Geraniums (revised, again)
It begins with the scent of geraniums, bitter and hard, and my grandmother telling me not to touch because she …
