
Nights power rising
Warm air freed from the cloud’s grace
Wakefulness waning
poetry, prose, and photography

Nights power rising
Warm air freed from the cloud’s grace
Wakefulness waning



Upon summer’s cusp
Each day the air gets warmer
Joyful, carefree hearts

It’s so easy to spin
Tumbling over, over
Losing my focus
In this maelstrom
Of possibility
For a choice requires
Leaving opportunity
Sitting in the sun
For another to grab.
What if that one
Is better than this one?
Too much of this
Is a table full of gifts
Where nothing is opened
And all potential
Evalotates into the day’s heat
​Slowly waking
Against my will
For life’s demands
Cry out
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Walking this roadside
Deep within my mind’s silence
As the sunlight fades


Fears rise in the dark
So many unknowns stare back
Fate can be quite cruel

Summer approaches
Spring time’s flowers are fading
The air is warmer
My problems felt big
A trip to the ICU
My problems feel small

Under this sunshine
Pondering fragility
And life’s strange graces
Such a strange week. Monday afternoon my son crashed his skateboard, ending up with a significant concussion and “mild” bleeding on the brain. Monday night & Tuesday were spent talking about many possible (and frightening) scenarios. Wednesday we’re talking about leaving and Thursday we made it home. Friday we joined some friends for dinner. Surreal, in the end.
Now, we only just started this journey. 45 minutes at dinner with friends exhausted him. He spent most this morning’s energy at our eye doctor’s simply getting glasses adjusted.
We’re home. His mind is mostly intact, and healing quickly. Doctors believe we’ll have 100% recovery. Looking at the possibilities, I feel deep gratitude. We escaped some brutal stuff. I’m grateful for that.