window
window
the late afternoon
light is the color
of gratitude
wouldn’t you say
as the shadows
grow longer and
the coming chill
pulls us closer
what else is there
but thank you
Peace,
Milton
Similar Posts
patina
patina “people weather over the course of their lives . . .” Eva Meijer when I got my new carbon steel skillets they came pre-seasoned but without the scars a patina will develop with use the leaflet explained they will show their age like a copper pipe or a bronze statue the lichen on stone…
advent journal: saints of diminished capacity
I have been going back through some poems I wrote several years ago. My intention was not to repeat them, necessarily, but a couple of them have taken hold in new ways and feel as though they are worth bringing to light once more. I needed these words tonight. I hope they find you, too….
the shape of what is not there
the shape of what is not there I’m not sure why this seems to be the week for a mutual meltdown but there is a tsunami of tension even the schnauzers are surly they know the whole thing has gone to the dogs as we say and they resent being made the metaphor why couldn’t…
lenten journal: comedy
under the alleluias I once heard a comedian say the only way to get to the jokes that mattered was to push through the easy stuff, the sophomoric double entendres, the terrible puns, and get past the low-hanging fruit of the obvious and only then can you begin to discover great comedy. I don’t think…
distance
distance some days any distance is too much to traverse I can’t get there from here like today the text from one to say the cancer cannot be challenged any care will be palliative the picture from another of the dog who has died the dog who welcomed me always the absence carries like an…
lenten journal: wonderings
wonderings we act like it’s a week of happenings to call holy but it’s only a day or two most of the days go by silent and unscheduled like most days go by sure there’s the donkey and the coats in the road but then nothing much until supper for the last time when no…
These poems are beautiful, Milton. Thank you!
I love “Coming chill pulls us closer…”