Tuesday, April 7, 2009


I recently discovered a poem that I wrote last year during a time of healing...

Roads wind
round like lanes;
but blue grey lines
between purple and green.

Everything has a sheen
as the sun glispers off
the grasses.
It looks warm
like Spring when
warm is welcome.
I want to stop,
but must fly past
fields of frenzied calm,
viewing through windows
the world -
unknitting and loosening the top of my head
and I feel the heavy frown
I have carried unknowing
wiped away
by beauty I am driving through
and on past.

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