the day after the storm

white sheets covered
the streets
tucking in the corners

with icy fingers curling
underneath the cobblestones

and down beyond the frigid surface
in the warm and murmuring earth beneath

ancestors rumbled, bleating out complaints
until the sidewalks heaved
and spread apart to release
their breath into the cold air.

high street warmed with buds blooming
spring, airlifting
spirits.


March 2007 Pat Bashford

Rumblings

Along with the almost daily thunderstorms this month of July, come the rumblings of other thunderheads in the mind. Thinking about perception and the way in which we see and observe makes me realise that we experience emotionally as well as physically common sights - and even uncommon sights. For example, as I lean over my back deck railing I look down on the largest elephant hosta in existence. That hosta has been growing for over a decade and now it has become an invader in my small back yard. But it always makes me smile because I can literally feel the strength not only of its power position but also of its tenacity. If I turn my lens upon it either close-up or from above, the two dimensional product will act as a weak sister to the actual sight of it. It's a rumbler on its own!

BridgeBridge

Bridge

The window facing East
on my third floor
catches the morning sun
spotlighting the two spires
and rising between them
a small hillock of lacy branches
serving as a bridge
uniting our spirits.

Haiku

Haiku

Moon spilling

Into my room

Shadows

Empty

Lights in the ceiling

Black holes on

White snow

Her white hair

Floating as she

Turns her key

Cracked window pane

Forced through

Dust and wind

news from newburyport

Summer is slowly beginning to simmer around Newburyport. The tourists have discovered the town again and the locals sigh a bit and manage to put up with them. SIGH!