As I have gotten older

I’ve become more aware

Of the little things

Having been bombarded by

The grand things of

Life I have sought

Refuge in the quiet

Things raindrops on eaves

The scratching of fall

Leaves and ant hills

That seem to erupt

Overnight through sidewalk cracks

The slower things like

Inch by delicate inch

Of freshly fallen snow

That crawls against windows

And plump caterpillars that

Wind and weave munching

Polka dots in green

On their way to

Emerging butterfly and oh

Yes love as called

Accepting it rather than

Seeking it there’s comfort

In the little slow

Things that simply show

Up for no other

Reason than being themselves

And I taking notice


Like the moon

That inches slowly

Through wooden slats

Like a cat

Prowling before pouncing

The moon beams

Delicately peel the

Browness of your

Skin back like

Your turbulent sleep

Removes the bedsheet

Leaving you ashen

And moving lower

As the moon

Moves higher in

It’s sky eventually

Landing on your

Feet which poke

Free down there

Like a pair

Of wooly mittens

All this as

Satie serenades waft

From hidden speakers

And give me

What I know

Now as beauty


Sharing a whiskey

A fire and

A cuddle on

A snowy Christmas

Eve you uncurled

Yourself from me

And sauntered into

The bedroom through

The darkness leaving

Me to turn

Out the lights

In the silence

I heard a

Clacking from outside

Checking snow covered

Windows seeing nothing

I opened the

Door and saw

Blinking in front

Of me reindeer

Like eight shivering

Waifs then knowing

That Christmas had

Come to our

Tiny quiet cabin