July 4.22: Coping, but barely

Under raptor storms,

growling clouds of dark unknown,

sunless doubts and dangers

in history’s tempest blown,

they pledged their sacred honor.

Could they have even thought

how much of “sacred honor”

would be bartered, sold, and bought?

Yes, I think they did,

but still they took a stand,

and signed their deep conviction

in sprawling, sundry hand.

Seeing the unseen,

hearing the unheard,

they built a sure storm shelter

with the steel of written word.

 

Here we celebrate the 4th of July, Independence Day,

perhaps a bit subdued this year.

“Self-evident truths,” it turns out,

are not so self-evident.

More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg

for this gorgeous capture

over Buckroe Beach, Virginia.

September 11.21: Coping

In a sigh’s time the sand tells of the living,

imprints

of those who once were.

In the mist,

dreams,

refusing death,

live on.

A constant horizon

commands our sight,

offering nothing but a beyond

to lift our eyes,

or maybe that is everything.

 

 

Remembrance Day 2021

9/11

More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg

for another poignant image.

 

August 3.21: Coping

A lone walker treads,

barely seen,

signing the sand

with transience

as have others

who signed

and vanished;

the sky bends low,

enrobing her with rain,

but lightly,

in deference

to her solitude.

More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg.

June 30.21: Coping

Beach blooms,

petal’d domes,

sand flowers,

airy homes,

a moment’s roof,

unwalled, unfast,

perennial border

edging the vast.

 

More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg.

 

January 31.21: Coping

The vendor vast

in winter blue,

we see self-serve

is nothing new.

 

 

Thanks yet again to intrepid photographer S.W. Berg,

tromping the beach in January cold.

June 27.19

Storm tinctured

ocean plies its blue

like cathedral window

unknowable mystery

ungraspable hue.

Soaring, long-winged birds

marvel in their way

borne on air and wonder

opalescent swirl above

liquid sapphire under.

 

Many more thanks to photographer S.W. Berg.

 

 

Disconnections: December 10.18

 

In feeble imitation

we aspire

in manmade constellation

of bulb and wire

to capture stars

of eons sired.

From night’s black depth

atop vast spire

two hoary lights,

amused, admire.

 

 

Thanks yet again to photographer S. W. Berg for this beauty.

And happy birthday to Emily Dickinson!

 

 

Disconnections: August 9.18

 

The day closes in layers —

palimpsest first

awaiting tomorrow’s script

inscribed by sandal and toe —

next water, rocking itself

in heavy-lidded blues,

slowing, nodding —

then birds, pulling cloud blanket

tucking in

a yawning world

dimming voices

on edge of dream —

atop, where wisps of day

linger like talcum

a so-distant moon

calls the stars.

 

Thanks yet again to photographer S.W. Berg.