Baltimore

according to family lore
we own all of old Baltimore

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granny’s dollies

last thanksgiving granny gave me her dollies
we carefully lifted them from their wrappings
smoothed their skirts, their faces
said their names

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japanese iris

this afternoon i have been digging the japanese iris out of the vegetable garden
and stuffing the muddy rhizomes into grocery sacks in preparation
for the making of their new bed

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the woeful demise of sir launcelot de fenestrare

sir launcelot de fenestrare was a knight with a most haughty air his king he’d annoy — and the whole hoi polloi — with his long-nosed and steely-eyed stare so his brothers in arms had a thought (which evolved to a sinister plot) they sent out their spies to plan his demise so that no…

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hiraeth

though i’m home i’m never at home
‘mid vales i love or hills i roam

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i am a hawk hovering

i am a hawk hovering over a field, stalking a mouse concealed within the grass.

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a wee braw dug

a hae a wee braw dug

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wednesday

against a gray and gloomy sky
the crimson oak leaves wildly wave
they’ll drift into an early grave
forgotten by the passers-by

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fürchtenmachen

i heard the voices rise and fall

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the dangling conversation

… for now, the morns are meeker than they were …

… and the crows above the forest call; tomorrow they may form and go …

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