Friday, June 24, 2016

Geo.'s Solstice Poem

[First, 3 photos: "Night life at my house. All within about 1/2 hour," --Norma.]

Over our revolving lens,
Sun sends edges, silver,
Under down gray and,
At the close of day, yellow
Light turns to fire folded
And rolled in tangles.
Earth holds its pitched
Angle where gardens rise.
Refraction fills the sky.


Wednesday, June 8, 2016


Lavender quartet on our
Kitchen counter--
Spikes and drying buds, 
Bracts sing of 
Old countries, oil, infusions
Of saffron, cinnamon,
In a Song of Solomon.
I believe they grew--
Like me, like you-- where
Flowers fell among nations,
Eras, epochs, along the ancient
Iron veins of Earth, on stone--
Over broken granite bones--
Birth, birth and rebirth,
Here, where this strain sings
With its world under 
Sunlight,  under rain.