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
lenten journal: spring training
spring training south of here the boys of summer are planting the seeds of spring, thawing out their throwing arms, weeding out errors, practicing and pitching, stealing a little extra daylight each evening before the month is out they will teach us, again, how to tell time, how to make a moment last forever, how…
lenten journal: specifically, the time . . .
specifically, the time . . . you left a note you drove me home you called to check on me you paid my bill you dropped by to say hi you answered the phone and listened you called me out you came to Dad’s funeral you laughed at my jokes you said you loved me…
dress code
I offer an out-of-season weather poem, based on a first line I found in notes for an older version of this poem. Stay warm and dry, friends. dress code I dress myself with rain, shape a hat out of clouds, make a scarf of the wind, wrap myself in a coat of many shadows— with…
lenten journal: first language
Sorry for my absence. I have been reading The Art of Noticinng: 131 Ways to Spark Creativity, Find Inspiration, and Discover the Joy in the Everyday by Rob Walker. in a chapter called Discover the Big Within the Small” was this quote: “Every household has a first language, a kind of language of the house.”–Alex…
lenten journal: sentence
I picked up a new traveling companion for this Lenten journey: Wendell Berry’s Standing by Words: Essays. The title essay begins, Two epidemic illnesses of our time—upon both of which virtual industries of cures have been founded—are the disintegration of communities and the disintegration of persons. (14) I added his word to my growing list:…
imago d.e.i.
imago d.e.i. can we talk numbers? 91 different kinds of antelope 11,000 different birds 50,000 spiders 34,000 snakes 30,000 fish and too many worms to try and count not to mention us we humans are one of 522 different primates but perhaps the only ones who see themselves as the image of God which begs…
These poems are beautiful, Milton. Thank you!
I love “Coming chill pulls us closer…”