Communication from a Friend

She sends me a song about holding on.
She sends me the image of a tree surrounding me:
a big trunk; strong roots going deep in the soil.
I won't fall, she says, no matter how windy the storm.
She doesn't realise that she has also told me
exactly how much I'll be buffeted and shaken.

The Purple Daisies

The purple daisies —
four with short stems,
in my tiny, spherical
cut crystal vase —
half close at evening,
showing their darker
undersides.

I found them
two days ago
when I came home:
stuck in the wire
of my front door.
Who gave me
these purple daisies?

In the Hospital Bed

In the hospital bed I notice
under the white gown
how thin his arms have become.

The Clouds ...

The clouds come up white
behind the trees
like a snow mountain.

Calling the Hospital

His voice on the phone is weak. And he can't hear me. No-one has remembered he needs his hearing aids. We yell at each other vainly, frustrated.

'Have you been to our place?' he asks.

'I'm here!' I tell him.

'I wish you were here,' he says.

Kay's Chicken Soup

Kay's good chicken soup
that she brought me
because I'm sick
stays with me.

Its warmth and flavour
and sustenance
continue to fill me. She
boiled down a whole chicken.

I Sit Outside

I sit outside to meditate, my spirits immediately lifting as I look at my sweet, nurturing back yard. It is both enclosed like a shelter, and open to the sky and plethora of trees beyond the fences. I am both protected, and connected to the Vastness.

Gone Again

He's gone again.
The sun
just won't get warm.

Bottlebrush

I step outside. Overnight
those dry trees on my lawn
have covered themselves
with bright red blooms.