NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-three

Thirty-three degrees
Night rain glass beads on car door
Late April morning

Still dew illuminated
Fog flowing soft over hill
weighted by stillness

top step creaks with frost
Morning, chill fog expanding
gold floods the hillside.

hidden birds waiting
quiet hillside wrapped in fog
trees golden with sun

Calling it done

I’ve been working on this most of the week, on and off, and I’m calling it done. I learned a lot doing it and I’m pretty darn pleased with how it turned out.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty

I think there’s a little more of this but tonight my words seem all pushed away…

Laying paint film by glaze by blotch
reveling in the occasionally brilliant stroke
seems to have pushed away all the words.
Driving home, I admire the fields golden
still and at the edges overlaid with
a bluey sort of lavender greyish
the difficult white shrub the glowing pink
and in my mind I see the paints mingling
on the broad palette yielding to the brush
reviving with a drop of clear water.

NaPoWriMo, Day Nineteen

Had this notion on the way to work about the color of the world seeping up toward the sky in spring but on the way home I saw my first of the wonderful white flowering shrubs that to me really speak to Spring’s official arrival.

After four, maybe five months of the sky
throwing down sifts and squalls and bucket loads
of snow and more snow and piling it up
in the normal fashion of New England
And it seems to many deeper and more
snow than it has to be to make a point.
Miraculously it all vanishes
but the woods stand brown and empty awhile.
The earth at last yields color to the world –
the new grasses shining in golden light
treetops pink and impossibly yellow
waiting for leaves to burst summery.
Shrub rows of white petals wind-tossed laughing
spring flecks falling across the joyous sky.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twelve

Haven’t you heard the effect of peepers zooming by in the night?

I wanted to write you words tonight
driving home from work, after a movie
but I watched the world instead.
The highway rolled by, familiar,
random red dots leading me on,
behind, beads strung across
the mirror, those urging me on.
In town, a sideview glance
confirmed the green as I passed.
Why do I always look?
Then miles more of two lane but
the old car’s rumblings can’t
conceal the Doppler waves of peepers
passing in the springtide.
In the dark driveway,
April uncertainty shrugged off by
Orion, he sits on the rim of the world
pondering his journey while I
fetch the mail and go inside.

Today in the Sunshine

Also found planted in the nearby garden, in case I ever need to verify my location:

I’m off to the Clark Art in Williamstown to look at new things and see the movie I, Claude Monet. I wonder if future people will be rummaging through our emails to gain insight about what we did today?

Thursday, Happy Birthday Vincent

Last night brought a return of the cold that knocked me down not so long ago… Not even the Quils seemed to touch it. This morning – no voice at all for awhile. What can you do other than be glad for spare boxes of tissues and a hearty supply of tea and a speedy electric kettle?

Did this one the other day.

Today would have been Vincent Van Gogh’s 164th birthday so here’s a painting to thank him for the inspiration.

This was done using a photo I took recently while driving a back road that well, if I’d known it was a bit of mud-season going on, I would not have gone anywhere near it. Took a long time to get rid of all the mud. Wasn’t it nice though of someone to put up a bright snow fence?