Category: Seasons

• Last breaths

  Evergreens surround your house, a fortress wall heavy with snow. In black recesses I wade, the snow bounds off the branches finds bare ankles inside my boots, my hair, a teaspoon down my collar. I approach your home to find windows boarded and roof patched. You are dying there, heaving, uneven breaths, a fortress with…

  Jenifer

  December 17, 2016

  Death, Dying, Family, Garden, Meditation, Muse, Seasons

  poetry

• Worth staying for

  Dusts of snow edge the earth, uneven lines mark sun-warmed pavers. With under-parts protected, statuary gather new relief, dying grasses open in broad pompons, perennial stalks crisscross into heavy mounds of gold, pine tufts reach out in a first, mourning grace. All else hushes, runs for cover, but our small, neglected garden unfolds, yawns wide…

  Jenifer

  December 3, 2016

  Aging, Art, Garden, Muse, Nature, Seasons, Traveling

  poem

• 11/20

  Earth grieves each November, again finds itself wailing in sorrow, refusing to get out of bed. For its own tears and distresses, the world collapses into itself, spends the month grinding through cold damp, discordant winds, while its resistance slips away into the long lonely meditation that always follows death. ———- From Li Po, “Listening…

  Jenifer

  November 20, 2016

  Bite-sized sampler, Death, From Li Po, Grief, Meditation, Muse, Nature, Seasons

  poetry

• So cold the sky

  waves roll in, tossed over themselves by November winds that scrape surface up and over, up and over, coil under clouds, moan through cedars, find me here, damp, burying the roots of this sapling today as if in a ceremony of dark days, bewitched by the sky long turned cold and forceful, my magic increases…

  Jenifer

  October 25, 2016

  Ancient, Art, Fantasy, Meditation, Muse, My window at night, Nature, Pentwater, Seasons, Story, Traveling

  poetry

• From Hafiz

  Everyday they fall. The leaves tumble down through branches, tossed by rolling breeze, find their way to mother earth, shaken out like threadbare rugs, freed from dust, from the lively flesh that filled out their netting. They wonder, am I more true or less nestled again in this damp home, changed so from my high…

  Jenifer

  October 22, 2016

  Dying, From Hafiz, Grief, Meditation, Muse, Nature, Seasons

  poetry

• The meadow prefers no trespassers

  or, To Donald Trump and all the other letches throughout my long life, starting at age 11 and continuing far longer than anyone would expect It is not for nothing that I seek payment for you to come near my soft body. It is a design to hold you off, just so, make you think…

  Jenifer

  October 22, 2016

  Childhood, From Hafiz, Grief, Memory, Nature, Political struggle, Public, Seasons, Violence

  poetry