Magazine Posts

The Moon is ashine,
beams sifting
through the clouds below.
A silver color; a fine wine,
reflects on all it touches,
for the Worlds to see.
A night without a Moon,
is not where I will be.

Beach Bums of Camano Island

"The loss of Native American land during and after the colonization period remains one of the darkest points in US history, but in the past few decades, there has been a rise in land acquisitions from Native American tribes" ..... Read full article

Brightly shining
until day is done,
are the rays
of a Winter Sun.
No air to warm
my hand and feet.
It may be sunny
but there is no heat.

I'm in the kitchen,
looking at our deck,
when four Crows,
come, starting to peck.
Bring us some food,
they are calling to me,
for we hunger now,
can you not see?
I had given them almonds,
an expensive nut.
Now I have changed
to tearing up a bread crust.

Across all the lakes and waters,
fog arises, to begin it's quest,
to cover the plants and tree limbs
with a wetness and to rest
upon the limbs, bare in Winter.

Latent beauty, is always found,
when in the area of Puget Sound.
Look for it near and far.
See the Mountain, in glorious white,
what a picture it is to me.
When the skies clear of rain
and we enjoy our Mountain view, again.

The Frost has covered,
limbs, weeds and grass,
while nipping at new growth
of daffodils in flower beds.
The grape hyacinth, once tall,
have been nipped to the ground,
by the resident rabbit

The rain falls;
laying in puddles,
filling street gutters,
as the drains,
overflow; bubbling up,
as if saying,
"No more rain."
The ground is saturated;
soil wet and deep,
but the sound
of the rain,
on our roof,
makes for a restful
night of sleep.

January 14, 2021