Morning Commute

Today's photo is of something I see almost every day on my way to work--and more often than not, I am right behind it, plugging away at 45 mph, stopping at every stop until we reach the Shelby county line.  It's become a challenge to me: if I don't reach a certain intersection by 7:15 a.m., I end up behind that bus.  Sometimes I get to the intersection at the same time, and will the traffic light to stay green so I can get ahead.  Sometimes I'm lucky, sometimes not so much....




And today's poem:  Airplanes line dance across the sky,
                                an odd constellation whose stars break
                                east or west, a curtain of lights
                                parting to reveal the true
                                stars of the night.

Most of these mini-poems are not finished pieces. I plan to use them as starting points for longer pieces, or maybe they won't be used at all.  The main purpose is to get me writing and paying attention more to what's going on around me.  And hopefully, both endeavors will inspire my painting. One can always hope....

                                                                         
                               

We're Not in Kansas anymore.....

Weird weather the last couple of days....cold, snow, rain, warm temps, and today: tornadoes!  Luckily no problems for us, but others in the area weren't so lucky, as you'll see in today's photo. Most of the roof was blown off this building--I pass it every day on my way to and from work.  I hope no one was injured.  There were several trees down in that area, too, as well as a kids' playset. The set was flattened, the slide tossed across the road between tree branches. It hasn't been confirmed whether it was a tornado that caused the damage or straight line winds, but at this point, does it matter? I'm sure to those families, the damage is done and hopefully everyone in those homes is safe and sound.

As for today's poem, here it is:  Lightning slices the morning sky.
                                                   Leaves skitter across the walk and disappear.
                                                   A cardinal goes airborne.  He knows:
                                                   Danger! Danger!
                                         

Trees and Petticoats

Today's photo and poem are about trees. I didn't write the poem as a companion to the photo, it just worked out that way.  This tree is located on the bypass I drive every morning to work.  For some reason, it fascinates me--maybe because it's alone in the field, and though it's obviously taken a beating, it's still standing tall.  One morning when I drove by, the top branches jutted out from a fog bank that hid much of the trunk--and I just loved it.  I wish I could have taken a photo, but it was too dark, and I didn't have the right photo equipment with me. But ever since that day, I always look for that tree.

The poem for the day is also about a tree:  this one the magnolia in my grandchildren's garden.  Just a short observation that I might develop into something longer later on.  Enjoy!

January 16:  Wind flips up the magnolia's leaves
                       baring its silver underside like a caberet dancer
                       flashing her fancy petticoat.

Playing Catch-up

So...haven't posted in a few days, not because I wasn't taking photos and writing, but because I had a problem getting the photos to upload from my camera. Finally got it--whatever "it" was--working....I think. Anyway, I'm posting a couple of photos and the mini-poems I wrote--and then hopefully I will be back on schedule!  Above, left, is the picture for yesterday, and on the right is the pic for today.  The cat is a stray cat who's been showing up at our doorstep regularly for the past several months.  She, or he, won't let me get close enough to touch, but her timing is impeccable:  no matter when I open the door, he/she appears, seemingly out of nowhere.  The only way I was able to get a picture was to sneak up to the window beside the door and snap the picture as quickly as possible.

The next photo is Molly, my daughter's Scotty.  She was trying to sleep.  We call her "evil Molly"--she's very spoiled--but cute!

Here are the mini-poems written over the last three days.

January 12:  A black-capped chicadee sits

                      deep inside the forsythia

                      near an abandoned hummingbird's nest--

                      barely visible even without cover of leaves--

                      while the cat watches

                      and waits.

January 13:  Rain pelts the windows,

                      streaks down the glass,

                      puddles in mulch.

                      A chickadee seeks shelter

                      beneath the eaves, its feathers

                      wet, on end

                      like my hair after a shower.

January 14:  Snow skips on the wind

                      swirls and circles before landing.

                      The wind whips whitecaps on the pond

                      reminding me of bleak winter days on the lake

                      back home.

January 15:  I am startled to see

                      a young fox

                      poised to strike.

                      A beagle barks.

                      The fox retreats

                      and so do I,

                      relieved not to witness

                      a murder.

Hey, I never claimed to be Robert Frost!

Well, that's all for now, folks!  Tomorrow I'll be back on schedule and back in the studio.  The recent cold weather and snow made me want only to snuggle by the fire with a good book.  Or take a nap. 

Moonlight, Geese and Gnomes--Oh My!

Didn't get a chance to post yesterday, so tonight's a two-fer.  First, the photographs: the one on the left is my gnome door, in the back yard.  Some of us believe in "wee ones."  On the right is a great dane statue we bought several years ago, in memory of our great dane, Daisy.

And the back porch poems for yesterday and today:


January 8, 2012:  Frost on the ground this morning.
                              A lone goose stands watch over the pond--
                              perhaps in search of a place to nest,
                              or a quiet spot to rest.

January 9, 2012:  Moonlight masks the green pond scum
                               turns it into a shimmery lake
                               the geese a silent fleet of ships.

Back in the studio tomorrow--still working on the portrait commission!
                            

Introducing Ringo, and another Back Porch Poem

So this is Ringo, another member of my family.  Ringo was adopted from a shelter a couple of years ago and he is the sweetest dog!  He's not too happy right now, as he was trying to sleep and there I was shoving a camera in his face! But he got a treat for his trouble, so that made him a little less annoyed with me. This is photo #7 for the year, and here's the next Back Porch Poem:


January 7, 2012:  Moonlight colors the back yard now.
                              The church on the hill stands silent, constant
                              bathed in soft rose.  I close my eyes,
                              breathe deep
                              take in the night.

So that's it folks! 'Night!
.
                            

Photo a Day and Back Porch Poems

Today's photo is of the Clay Village Baptist church.  It sits on the hill overlooking our property.  I wish I had the patience to set up the tripod and photograph it at night, because there's something really peaceful and comforting about it then.  It seems to glow, catches the setting sun or the light from the full moon.  I've spent many a night staring at it from the back porch before I head to bed.

Meanwhile, here are the next two of my Back Porch Poems:



January 5, 2012:   They have names, but I know them only by number.
                                Friendly enough, they smile,
                                wish me a good day, or Merry Christmas.
                                Seems ironic to return the greeting
                                so I just say thanks, walk on
                                recite the training mantra:
                                Inmates are not your friends.

January 6, 2012:  Clouds dance beneath the moon
                              their billowy skirts shimmer starlight
                              while the wind hums Claire de Lune.


Six poems, six photographs, 360 to go!