Seeking a change of pace, I turned to the city, camera in hand. Dramatic and humble, in broad strokes and intimate portraits, its character emerged. But more than this, more than the structures, were the lives that touched me.
A tree lined neighborhood in the dimming light, on the sidewalks they walked, or ran, or clustered, or porch sat, greeting passers-by from their small homes of a certain age.
In parks, on trails, at sidewalk cafes, a stair stoop, I shared their presence and felt their warmth.
It brought me joy.
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Young Love
That feeling of ease
surrendering to in the
early evening calm
through neighborhood’s
shadowed tree-forms the
up and down of old sidewalks
the young, soon home
from the day strolling
hand in hand
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Leaves Move on the Breeze
that stirs a calm of summer come
over me, the blue of sky revealed
in parting branches, cloud in flight
and I, content, or so, linger ever so
slightly more, listening, leaning to
the cool on my skin, leaves rustling
and yet, a disquiet, lying still a
reaching for in the afternoon of
the day, shade shifting in sun
somewhere, under, imperceptibly
fingers move, one to another
tree to tree, touching in commune
and so, being not exempt, timidly
awkwardly, our fingers reach
yearning to touch
this is love
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Bobby and Ann
She an artist, he tied her bow
to the chair, they never parted
Carried through better they saw
the worst and survived
The stroke of her brush, each
pain recalled, each mark a memory
Layered colors, emotions struggling
free as tears mixed the palette
In joy they aged streaks of gray and
more, love never faltering, banter
and tease, two chairs side by side
pie in the morning, cake at noon please
She moved on before him, wrote a
letter back it seemed, don’t miss me
carry on, I’ll be there with you
every moment you’ll see
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Honeysuckle
Stepping off the path
drawn by a fragrance
heady with nectar the
drop revealed with care
the way that love is there
waiting deep within
drawn out in moments
of tenderness
and the river flows by
easy in cadence rippling
burbling over weirs the
sweet song of summer
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Love and Loss
I have a love affair with the world
A love affair with life
It is dear to me, each present
and each gone
In gratitude I greet each day
to glory in the wonder and beauty
knowing fair well the storms
aloft and the tears of a child
In love is loss
inseparable and cruel
reluctant to enter
we pause at the gate
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One Summer’s Night
Long by a creek, years ago covered
traffic spinning circles of light in
words dark he sat on the hard stoop
Grass dry and broken in
walkway cracks, the harsh light
of the city upon him as she left
Raindrops send reflected ripples of
overcast gray through the still pool
bloom fading the hummingbird passes
He wasn’t ready, then, on the move
you know, it wasn’t the time
now, feet on the ground but love’s gone
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Maybe
Can I trust you
will I lose myself
isn’t that the point
love asks too much
Words trailing off
into the night air
a warm summer eve
and the crickets sound
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Four on the Porch
Sitting around the table
there were four, sisters maybe
likely young friends
The old white wooden railing
wrapped around in craftsman
style, a wood floor in gray
Illumined this dark evening
porch light a soft glow on the
downhill curve of the city street
Yes, this is the way it was
it was a time of gliding and
dreaming, will this be me
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City
This old city knows them all
stories and songs, hopes and more
they walk the streets at night
sleep escaping those who dream
Do they understand this, no
it is there like the moonlight
in her hair or the way he eases
the tear from her eye
What is left in the remains of
this day, this precious day, but
bits and pieces, time given
words heard, love shared
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