Oddments

In search of story


4 Comments

January 16.18

Twig by twig alit

hoarfrost incandescence

winter morning’s bloom

crystalled efflorescence.

 

 

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Connections: March 27.17

 When I was very small,

“Me, myself and I”

was snappy repartee

though I couldn’t tell you why.

A hundred years have passed

voices come and gone

but me, myself and I

remain and chatter on.

Here’s where we meet for coffee

this tri-partite banquette

you can find us here engaged

in earnest tête-à-tête.

If occasionally you hear

barnyard din from this old tree

remember me, myself and I

can often disagree.

More thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.

Connections


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Connections: January 28.17

vh-2016-11-36-old-treeCrumpled

something tall and proud

lies felled

death took it

then blade

now knelled

in crackling whisper

as kin mark

their own sure geld

respectfully distant

from remnants

sentinel’d

in tender long shadows

shrouded

farewelled.

More thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives,

Vernon Hill Gallery.

Connections