Monday, November 30, 2015

November 30: Wood-stoves are lit

Neighbor's chimney-top glows
under the Big Dipper--
thoughts for a poem.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

November 29: Make a wish

Field of milkweed--
wishing on each drifting seed
for the Monarchs' return.

Saturday, November 28, 2015

Friday, November 27, 2015

November 27: Beech Hill

Along the trail up--
sharing fragrant bayberries
with an amazed child.

Thursday, November 26, 2015

November 26: Thanksgiving Day

Before the family feast
I beat a nine-year-old
at the Game of Life.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

November 25: Frost Moon

Wearing a sleep mask
to keep out the moon--
feeling my age tonight.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

November 24: Almost full

Never satisfied--
this moon slowly climbing up
the cold mountainside.

Monday, November 23, 2015

November 23: First snow

Winter's first snowfall--
cardinal melts a red streak
through the cold morning.

Sunday, November 22, 2015

November 22: Driving home from Vermont

Several hawks in trees,
road-killed deer off 89--
this world's dangerous.

Saturday, November 21, 2015

November 21: Night out with old friends

Moon a frosty blur
we stop and notice
before we share hot sake.

Friday, November 20, 2015

November 20: Camel's Hump

Camel's Hump is the second highest mountain in Vermont's Green Mountains, and its peak has a unique shape visible over many miles and familiar at first glance after many months or years.
Beyond parking lot,
highway buzz, traffic lights,
Camel's Hump simply is.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

November 19: As I drive to Vermont

Flock of turkeys
gleaning in the cornfield
a week before Thanksgiving.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

November 18: Moon over Rockland

Moon reflection, high window.
Down here below: me
and my pizza.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

November 17: Job training

My new co-worker tells me
three deer live in the woods
around our office.

Monday, November 16, 2015

November 16: White as a gull's sunlit belly

In the right light
backdrop of clouds, gull in flight
makes me think angel.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

November 15: Safe

I escape in a book,
the cat's in a box:
ways we make ourselves safe.

Saturday, November 14, 2015

November 14: After the terrorist attacks in Paris

Un vent froid du nord.
Je pense aux trottoirs de Paris
entasses avec des fleurs.

Friday, November 13, 2015

November 13: Meteorologist at Pecha Kucha

On the weather map--
El Nino's colors and swirls,
work of an artist.

November 12: Driving home in fog

Sweep of the airport light
all bright then all dark
late night conversation

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

November 11: At the gym

In the gym mirror
all of us sweating, trying
to be better selves.

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

November 10: And he's smiling about it

Up to his neck in leaves
Buddha of the garden
waits for snowfall.

Monday, November 9, 2015

November 9: Open to winter

cold as the new moon
I write about Snowy Owls
wish it were that easy

Sunday, November 8, 2015

November 8: Sunday afternoon, autumn leaves

Crow a black arrow
shot from the oak tree.
I think, Umber, sienna.

Saturday, November 7, 2015

November 7: Heat

Cat moves through the house
from one vent to another
communing with heat.

Friday, November 6, 2015

November 6: Falling leaves

Small brown bodies of leaves
fling themselves at my car,
make me flinch.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

November 5: Owl visitor

Camden village green--
a dozen raucous crows mobbing
one calm Barred Owl.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

November 4: Good hair day

at the hair salon
hearing Disney princess chatter
I too transformed

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

November 3: Sidewalks

How nicely the fallen leaves
cover the dog shit
on the sidewalks.

Monday, November 2, 2015

November 2: Day of the Dead

Through gilded leaves
crow flies with stolen bread--
the way our souls seek solace.

Sunday, November 1, 2015

November 1: Birding in Portland

A stretch of woods below Portland's Western Prom used to shelter a significant number of homeless people. When we birded in that area, we would come across makeshift shelters, piles of clothes, and other heart-breaking signs that people were living there. Now many of the trees have been cut down, opening up the woods: it's no longer good bird habitat, but more importantly, it's no longer good shelter for those humans who needed it. It's not like those who stayed there vanished into thin air when the woods were cleared. As the calendar turns to chilly November, where have they found shelter?

city trees cut down--
sadder to think the homeless
have lost even this