a bloom

practice reading
in a living room
filled with
natacha’s french
manuel’s spanish
and my english
unraveling the tale of
and the mountains that hold her
but don’t have arms to hug


what unfolds at a table
over an impromptu lunch
of salad and home-made carrot ginger dressing
is served
along with  splashes of red wine
(mystery age revealed: 47
and talk of chinese zodiac
and the major shifts that occur
every twelve years)


blanket of snow still laid out
beyond the north-facing door
of natacha’s casita
while all the rest
spent the day melting


what do you mean
when you say
you felt low?


a bloom of plastic bags
in a garbage bin that reads
no plastic bags

sunset softest clouds
except for those along the mountain ridge
glowing molten fuchsia

final installment
in the seemingly endless
haircut series i think i
got it right this time


how fast and slow
the same week can pass
time meted out
in the space between



Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

2 responses to “a bloom

  1. Victoria

    Always enjoy reading and rarely comment because your words fill me and speak for me thank you

  2. vicky! it is so good to have you on the journey with me!
    thank YOU thank you thank you!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s