Oddments

In search of story


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September 5.19

There is yearning

in the looking up.

The unattainable,

marbled with secrets,

lures.

The gulls

in swooping arabesque

mock me with their indifference.

But still I reach.

There is that dream —

you know the one? —

Alone,

I soar,

scared and joyful,

lifted not by wings

but

(I think)

 by self.

 

 

Thanks to photographer S.W. Berg for this beautiful capture.


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Connections: March 29

Vernon Hill - 12 - 2015-10The keeping room

old-fashioned place

where all were held

in homey embrace.

Gathering, warming

by hearth and by heart

not valued for size

but as cozy rampart.

Predictable, safe

filled with the known —

it’s in my head now;

I go there alone.

It isn’t this tidy

compartmentalized

but rather like dreams

unrealized:

those who are now

and those who have been

and things that have rusted

and cracked and worn thin.

Things that I touched

with little girl fingers

kitchens and people

whose cinnamon lingers.

My keeping room holds them

for how long I can’t say

but I hold tight and hope

they won’t fade away.

Thanks again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives

and its Vernon Hill Gallery.

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Connections: January 6

SANYO DIGITAL CAMERA“Little Christmas” it’s called.

Epiphany, if you’d rather.

The star-studded story

that some would call blather.

Three men with gifts

on an uncertain road,

signs and dreams

their end and goad.

I recall it today

‘mid this tonnage of trammel

and I think next year

I will need my own camel.

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