Long lonesome road

it would be

if he weren't at my side

and we weren't looking out the window

noticing the clouds floating in a still blue sky,

it would be if the little black dog were not

in the back seat, gently breathing,

occasionally chasing a rabbit in her dreams

after chasing skis all day, sometimes

disappearing in deep snow banks only

to pop up again, her face sprinkled in white.

it used to be lonely on this road,

but not anymore.

Spoiled Dog

a huge cardbox on the front porch,

not full of cashmere sweaters or socks,

new ski boots or a stash of great reads,

dog cookies, dog treats, dog, dog, dog

she's spoiled rotten, sleeping on the couch

only slightly raising her head to watch

me bent over carrying in her bootie,

then closing her eyes and settling

back into sweet dreams of dog treats,

rawhides and cookies.

if only my dreams came true.

tinnitus

the ocean is in my ear
the waves going in and out
with the steadiness of a heart beat,
crashing over all thoughts
drowning them into nothingness
that goes in and out with
no meaning, just the rhythm
of nothingness, the
noise that never
goes away.

emptying the refrigerator

it's completely full
of food from Christmas, New Years,
even Thanksgiving in the very back
behind the wilted celery in a plastic bag.
mashed potatoes, left over gravy,
lasagna, rice, a half eaten chicken,
a single carrot.
it will all go into the big compost
pile and reappear in my garden
next year
i hope the refrigerator will
be repopulated soon.

Flowers instead of grumbles

when one expects grumbles
rightly so
but gets flowers instead
how lucky can
one be
especially when it is
me!

sleep calls

sleep calls
so tomorrow's dawn will wake me,
I will creep up the stairs to work left dangling
when children called
and I went to them
leaving the computer to hum alone
office mates to toil in silence
as no one came in to greet them
awakening them from their sullen plodding.
sleep calls me now
a warm bed and blissful
unconsciousness, only to be
aroused by his arm reaching
over to embrace me
and capture my warmth.

Notice Something New

it's a new year

a fresh number, a fresh month.

notice something new,

icicles dangling from the steam pipe.

how odd that it snakes up the hillside.

a stand of trees all the same youthful age,

the older one leaning so far over the creek

as to touch the branches on the other side.

today, the birds are chirping that I am late

where have I been, but sleeping under 

warm covers waiting for the sun to 

barely touch the top branches.

notice something new, a quickening

of the pulse, a new yearning,

a touch that feels warmer,

a fresh start.