Time for Liftoff

Ground beneath
shifting
once solid
now swirling
dissolving –
gritty eddies
of sand…

Would be
a desert storm
if not standing
at water’s edge;
nothing for it
but to leap
take a risk
and fly…


(This poem first appeared here as Flying Fish, in 2016. Now edited and retitled for Eugi’s Weekly prompt: swirling. Image my own.)

Photographer’s Dream

Examining the intricacies
of a spider’s weaving

Marvelling as a mother raccoon
carries her babies one by one
while a bobcat prowls the tree line

Delighting in the birth of a calf
anticipating the arrival of more

Wonder and trepidation
coinciding – and I, behind
lens, am child again
wide-eyed basking
in the glorious outdoors.

In 2021, I Woke Up

This year the plague came
and I blamed the wind
for carrying destruction
and I blamed the sun
for its ineptitude
and the rain,
no friend of mine,
only served to drown
my expectations.

Lockdown
and social distance
masks and antiseptics
how was a soul
to survive?

Pushing 2020
out the door
certain relief
would follow
but change is not
a date on the calendar
a release of circumstance

I turned inward
faced the gloom
and found a spark
forgave the weather
the virus, the news

In 2021, I woke up…

(For Reena’s Exploration challenge: I woke up in 2021… Image my ow