If I do
it’s only to
share what I’ve
become the things
that I’ve found
and not the
the things forgotten
for those things
no longer make
or matter except
as a natter
of long ago
battles and wars
but maybe the
scars of skirmishes
seen and counted
in dim light
after or before
and then tales
of long ago
told around the
campfire of passion
Mountain
New ivory blanket
lays folded flat
at beds end
patiently awaiting use
chilled feet and
cool legs seek
its warm comfort
in the outside
chilly June morning
mountain coffee time
big enough for
two to cuddle
June
Already the
machine moans
squeaky clean
and soon
to tumble
the kettle
filled begins
to boil
and beep
the snare
of slippers
shuffle across
hardwood floors
and cabinet
doors creak
such are
standard sounds
of early
dawn days
of June
Boldly
There’s a type
of quiet that
invites others to
gather and sit
it’s a light
that is seen
from a distance
and calls attention
to its warmth
it’s boldly quiet
in its simplicity
and its silence
Quiet
Having been quiet
for most of
the last four
years I’ve found
a profound pleasure
in just listening
listening to other
people talk and
listening to silence
that hangs between
us like autumn
leaves about to
fall for them
the discomfort is
palpable but for
me the silence
draws us closer
like the dusk
draws the day
into its night
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 