Remembering Summer Nights

Shine on, O moon of summer.
Shine to the leaves of grass, catalpa and oak,
All silver under your rain to-night.

Carl Sandburg, Back Yard

Remembering Summer Nights

I remember summer moons and steamy nights,
the sky, watercolor-washed in silver wings.

I remember light, flooding through gauzy curtains,
breezes, not enough to cool our youthful bodies.

I remember fireflies and cricket songs and frogs
calling for their mates from nearby ponds.

I remember honeysuckle sweet, the bitter
taste of cherries, culled too soon.

I remember early love, the sweaty palms
and kisses stolen on a neap tide shore

I remember yesterday, your craggy cheeks
and rheumy eyes that stare into the void.

It’s for you I write these things, digging deep
into the treasures of our past for you.

Can you remember now?

Photo: Wikipedia Labeled for Noncommercial Reuse

Photo: Wikipedia
Labeled for Noncommercial Reuse

For Tuesday Poetics, Walt invited us to use a summer quote from a well-know poet or writer as a starting point for a poem of our own. I’ve picked up the theme again for Open Link Night, hosted by Grace at dVerse Poets Pub. We would love to have you visit, contribute and read other poets with a poem of your own–any form, any topic.

The ending of  poem is fictional, inspired by my involvement in the care of elderly couples over the years–so often one is the caregiver for the other with dementia. The verses leading up to that are mine.


Paschal Moon


Photo: D. Slotto-Palm Desert April, 2011

Paschal Moon

Last night the sky embraced the moon
enfolding her in a swath of indigo.
Warm desert air, heavy with the scent of jasmine
whispered songs of mystery.

Whimsical stars shimmered in the distance,
danced across the heavens until one
jumped from its orbit, dying not with a whisper
but in a fiery blaze, still unforgiven.

You set about the daunting task of giving comfort
while from your lips I tasted the sweetness of ambrosia.

My commitment to writing a poem a day during the month of April fell victim to the exigencies of life last week as I spent time with a loved one in need. This causes me to reflect on the fact that life itself is a poem, written in the choices we make, the care we give and our response to whatever the moment presents to us. That being said, this is a poem I wrote in response to the Wordle I gave in my Monday Morning Writing Prompt. It is my submission for NaPoWriMo Day 18 Thanks to Blaga whose poem served as the inspiration for the words I chose

Nighttime, Playtime

Anxious child at window

Image by IronRodArt - Royce Bair via Flickr

Nighttime, Playtime
A Nursery Rhyme

I do not want to go to bed;
it’s not yet dark outside.
Ideas dancing in my head
are begging to be tried.

I heard the moon say to the stars
It’s time to go and play.
I will be full, the night is ours.
Oh, Mama, can’t I stay?

I do not want to go to sleep
until the party’s over.
The heaven’s promises are deep;
they won’t wait till I’m older.

No. This isn’t a ballad, carol or lullaby. Well, maybe a bit like a lullaby. But circumstances are such today I’m compelled to repost a nursery rhyme for Gay Cannon’s wonderful prompt at dVerse Form for All. You’ll want to stop by…she’s serving up eggnog, poetry and wonderful information about forms you may not have tried. Hope to see you there.

And now my bit of self-serving promotion: my novel, “Winter is Past,” is finally available in various e-book formats and in PRINT! Check it out on my Website or follow the Link on my blog. It’s been a long process and I want to thank all of you for encouragement along the way.

Poetry: Snapshots of September

Acer Rubrum

Here are three short poems that I’ve written in autumn. Maybe Haiku, maybe not–depends on how strictly you interpet the 5-7-5 rule…that’s why I call them snapshots.

September Moon

Whose Moon shines when
summer grows cold and a flower questions
if her sun knows how to shine?

Autumn Flame

When you close your eyes,
pain is red
with orange around the edges
and a sporadic flash of gold,
like the Acer rubrum
outside your window.

Fall Equinox

New Moon darkness shines.
Puddles reflect flashing neon.
Rain splashes asphalt.

These poems are submitted to Jingle’s Poetry Open House.