Forty-fifth Stone

A haze of pollen
gilds the maple's branches
shimmers in the sunlight.

Forty fourth Stone

Like a planetary system
at street level, shine
halogen lamps in
the early morning dark.

or

From the sidewalks
halogen planets
shine through early
morning darkness.

Forty-third Stone

The sun glows,
burns like a torch

through the density
of morning fog.

Forty-second Stone

The city skyline dark
still against the lightening
sky but for one tower
 its facade blazing
with the reflected light
of the unrisen sun.

Forty-first Stone

Three o'clock
in the morning
sleepless, I sit
at the computer
wrapped against
the chill in my
grandmother's
blue and white
chrysanthemum
kimono and
try to write
my way home
to sleep.

Thirty-sixth Stone

A cold, dry night--
as I turn down
the fleece blanket
my fingertips draw
lightning trails.

Thirty-fifth Stone

As temperatures rise
snow crouches
in the nooks and crannies
of tree bark.

Thirty-fourth Stone

Even on a rainy cloud
covered morning
there is a moment
when the world shifts
from dark to light.

A blink.

I stare through
the slats at the darkness
glance down at my fan
cactus, look up and
see the sticks and twigs
of the sugar maple
canopy outlined
against a lighter dark.

Even on a rainy cloud
covered morning
the shift from dark to
light lightens my spirit.

Thirty-third Stone

Sign of spring:
Land's End catalogue --
pastel colours and
beach wear.

Thirty-second Stone

Okay, I lied. I will still use this to post shorts, but I won't be regular. I am going to post over at Writing Our way Home, as well.

Outside, fog drifts
in shades of grey
and white. Inside,
bubbles bolognese
on the stove,
colouring the air red.

Second Stone

8:53 am, Sunday, 2 January, 2011 - Walnut Creek

A scarlet poinsettia rises from my mother's sink where it is soaking--a riot of flames above the water.