Hands
Earned their keep
These hands of mine
Occasion for Cussing Numbers gather before me Like enemy troops They raise their rifles I pull out my secret weapon Turbo Tax Certainly it will save me If I can just find My account websites And remember the passwords To print the forms That hold the encrypted messages Almighty Turbo Tax Has the decoder ring I…
Short days
Dark nights
If only it meant
I was getting more rest…
A dragonfly’s wings are transparent glittery things that always make me think of fairies… First LoveDo not give up your first love for it is forever in your heart in your mind The thing that got you through all things You could not stop even if you tried Who you are What you are Whatever your eye…
“You used to be much more…’muchier.’ You’ve lost your muchness.” — Mad Hatter to Alice in Alice in Wonderland I watched Alice in Wonderland and it got me wondering where my muchness went. This leads to grabbing for straws. Maybe get another dog to fill the house with more of something. More life. Helping out a critter….
Letting Go As Steve, Latte, and I drove towards an eBike shop, ninety minutes away from home, I wondered (not for the first time) what the hell I was doing. Looking out the truck’s rear window, I could see Sophia, my Bianchi, zoom-zoom, road bike, riding along in our bike rack. I loved that bike. Yet,…
I rode Luke this morning. He was feeling spooked, very upright, and lots of spring to his trot. So much coiled energy, a sproingy trot in place feeling. I got in a few good canters and a few leg yield steps before he got tense and we had to go back to circling. He’s doing…
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Fantastic! These hands have earned their keep? I love that! And your photographs are stunning – as are your hands! I often think that way about my body in general – you know, that it’s earned its keep – but specifically hands? What a lovely meditation. I loved, loved, loved this and will look at my age spotted, somewhat scarred, crepe paper textured skin hands more lovingly and appreciatively after reading this.
Your hands, poem, and photos, are beautiful. (but I do know the feeling of looking at my own hands and thinking “who’s are these?”)
Lynn