The Days Before The North Wind

It’s a late summer’s eve.
The only sounds
A child’s laughter,
crickets singing,
Leaves rustling on the tiniest breeze.

Summer meal on the table,
BBQ, corn on the cob
Fresh tomatoes and cucumbers.
Must be August.

Farm stands full
of things just picked today.
Melons and peppers,
Apples and peaches.
Pumpkins soon dot the ground.
The harvest underway.

The days grow shorter.
The laughter retreats inside the cozy warm house.
The leaves crunch underfoot,
And fires ignite in back yards pits to ward off the chill.

The leaves soon will turn
To red and gold and orange.
In a breeze it will rain leaves.
In a still sky, they will crunch underfoot,
come into the house attached to feet.

Think of me as the leaves fall.
I will miss the autumn,
The days of clear cool air
Before the north wind blows.

But when it blows, hard and steady,
Come see me then, my friend
In a land of endless summer.


Letting Go of You, A Little Bit at a Time (A poem)

IMG_2193 (1)

Sunrise from the town dock, Longboat Key, Florida

I let it go
On the summer wind,
With the sun in my eyes,
I let it go.

I remembered what we did here.
I remembered how it felt then.
I smiled, and I cried, just a little.
I will always miss what was
and I will always miss what wasn’t.

But letting go is something I’m getting good at.
Knowing that letting go
Opens the space
For something new and wonderful
To come in.

Entering the autumn of my life,
I cling to summer.
So, I go where it is warm,
Where I’ll not be reminded
Of the summer dreams that
turned into nightmares.
Where new dreams will be born.

I wish you love and light,
I wish all good things for you.
Even though we don’t talk,
We talk, on levels we don’t understand.
I still feel you, all the time.
I hope you are happier than what I feel.

Let us both feel good about what was,
Just between us, when there was no one else.
Peace to you. Peace to me.
Love always and all ways.

The Gift (A Poem)

sun and moon

Dogs barking,
A plane hums overhead,
Crickets chirping,
The smell of fresh cut grass,
Children laughing,
And screen doors slamming.

And then,
The stillness takes over.
Not even a hint of a breeze,
Not a single dark cloud in the blue.
Not a sound.

A peaceful summer’s eve.
She sits in her sacred place
And listens to the sounds of the earth.
This earth,
This planet.
This body.
This heart.

She’s grateful,
Because, what else is there?
Day and night,
The sun, and the moon.
The breeze and the stillness.
The green trees and the blue sky.
The ocean and the stars.
Life, the gift.


Still holding on to the summer

That’s leaving so quickly.

Still wearing my flip-flops,

dreaming of the beach.

Dreaming of star-gazing on warm summer nights.

I apparently love to kid myself.

And not to let go,

And not to accept that which I don’t want.

Cooler mornings and shorter days.

Not my thing.

The voices are demanding

That I accept what is.

September, creeping toward the end.

leaves changing colors,

falling to the ground.

Dreams of summer falling with them

Give me sensuous summer nights

and glorious hot summer days.

Let go, let go, the voice commands.

A few more days….just a few… I beg.


Is the answer.

Just, maybe.

How Quickly Things Change

The day was dripping with sunshine.

Like a hot butterscotch sauce,

it made everything glow,

and shimmer,

Ripples of heat were visible on the surface of the ocean,

Creating a layer of ghostly white mist between the sea and the sky,

Islands in the distance rose from that mist.

Even the waves had melted down into a smooth undulating dance,

reflecting the golden blue sky above.

She sat, reading a book about winter,

Reveling in the summer heat.

It was glorious…..

She fell asleep to the caress of the last of the summer breeze

and the song of the waves as they lapped the shore.

Suddenly, she woke up.

Where was she?

The brilliant day was gone,

the butterscotch sky had given way to charcoal clouds.

The breeze had stiffened, enough to create real waves

crashing on the shore.

Umbrellas were blowing around on the beach,

Anxious mothers packing up bags,

calling children from the water.

Sunburned bathers running for their cars.

She got up, folded her beach chair

She picked up her book, her bag,

Headed for her car,

She turned once more to glance

back at the sea.

A zig-zag bolt of lightning announced the time.

Time to run.

An enormous clap of thunder echoed down the sound.

A hard stiff wind picked up everything not held down.

People yelling over the noise for their children

For their loved ones.

“Run run……”

She got to her car, facing the water.

She sat there, watching,

as the world turned on the once happy beach lovers.

In a moment, the joy of a perfect summer day


As if it were a dream.

Sheets of rain, a cacophony of thunder, and wind, and angry waves

Causing chaos now.

How quickly things can change, she thought.

Nothing lasts forever.

Hot Summer Day

This song has been in my head this morning, because it’s late summer and going to hit 90°F today.  I saw this band, It’ A Beautiful Day, back in 1970 when I was in college.  They blew me away.  They made one album, then had issues with royalties or song rights or something.  Now they have re-recorded a lot of their music under David LaFlamme, the leader and incredible violin player. The recording is from Tanglewood in 1970, so is not real hi-tech but still is awesome. These are the lyrics.  ENJOY!

Hot summer day (Hot summer day)
Carry me along
Oh, hot summer day (Hot summer day)
Please carry me along
Hot summer day
Carry me along
To its end
Where I begin

Long summer dream (Long summer dream)
Sliding round my mind
Those long summer dreams (Long summer dream)
Are leaving me behind
Hot summer day
Carry me along
To its end
Where I begin

Circling like a river
Over brightly colored stones
Breaking up my soul
And taking part of me home
Leaving the other half
To tumble all alone
Love, love, where did you go?

Hot summer day (Hot summer day)
Carry me along
To its end where I begin
Those long summer dreams (Long summer dream)
Still spinning round my mind
And they end where they begin

And I want to grab that river
And stop the love that’s dying
Because I know that somewhere
Deep inside my soul you’re still lying
Waiting to awaken
And shake that river’s flow
Love, love, where did you go?

They told me that the sun turned green
I said I didn’t know
And they told me that the moon turned blue
I said it didn’t show
And they told me that I looked a fool
And I said I’d let that go
But when they told me that our love was dead
I had to turn and go

Oh love
Where did you go?

Hot summer day (Hot summer day)
Carry me along
To its end
Where I begin
Long summer dreams (Long summer dream)
Sliding round my mind
And they end
Where they begin

Circling like a river
Over brightly colored stones
Breaking up my soul
And taking part of me home
Leaving the other half
To tumble all alone
Love, love, where did you go?



Sensuous, relaxed, vibrant.

Hot summer days

that become cool evenings.

Lovers holding hands under a canopy of star showers

Secret caresses carried on a summer breeze

Concealed in the shadows.

Time spent with friends

sipping cold drinks

on familiar porches.

Laughter heard across the still air,

the sound of children playing

And a screen door slamming.

The grass still green,

it’s growth subdued,

though the smell of fresh cut grass still permeates the air.

Farmer’s markets full of the summer’s bounty.

Reds, and oranges, and greens

Full of life,


We know the days will get shorter, soon.

We know that the cold weather will send us inside

Wrapped in blankets and layers of clothes.

But not yet.

Not now.

Now, let the last days of summer

Fill my senses.

Let me be forever mindful, and hold these days close in my heart.


Sweet Moments

Summer breezes blowing in my windows.

My summer gauzy dress ruffles on the edge.

My hair lifts off my neck, and slides across it,

Like a soft caress of a lover’s hand

turning my head to meet his lips.

It’s warm, warm enough for the heat to raise tiny beads of sweat across my brow.

on my upper lip

Across my breast.

I smile

Thinking of the last time I had tiny beads of sweat raised.

In the heat of an afternoon that was fairly cool.

Sweet time, sweet sweet moments

Passing between us.