Jennifer

the windit blows and how! neighbors matter in the storm –would you be mine?

It occurred to me tonightour pup has been with us here for a year!

I walk with an ache I cannot shake and beauty rises to meet me. 

Even in the arugula blooming out to seedthere is beauty.

Here the busy trail traffic slowed and stoppedin quiet contemplation. 

Through the twists and turns along this way,it’s nice to have a yellow dog.

I have everything and nothing from which to produce 17 beats. 

When life feels like a long muddleit helps to have sweet peas that are red.

That time we told our six -year-old we’d be renting a house on P Street.

In the rhythm of seasons, fireweed keeps timeand we have come to this.

Open faces turned to the sun now laid to dry for a cup of tea.

A midnight trip to the airport turned up her boys and so much pure joy.

Tight green buds on tall stalksexplode into fireworks of gorgeous design.

Day after daythis laundry builds the paththat I am following home.

I got ripped from sleep by an urpy dog, but what an easy brightside!

I wonder what they’ll remember from their clop cloppy ride down our street.

It’s high tide on a warm sunny evening and I’m just checking the clock.

It’s August! and I’m still walking the path, counting beats, building a life.

It’s an odd quiet out there on the water at the end of July.

Last Monday I picked apples from my grandma’s favorite applesauce tree.