Archive for the ‘Solitude’ Category

Apophatic Morning Stillness

August 15, 2013

—∞—

In the screen house
Under the trees
Overlooking the lake
An hour before sunrise
 
How does one describe
A stillness so complete
The tiniest leaf
In motionless silhouette
 
Against water
Tinged blue, pinkish-peach
Hopeful, tranquil
Waiting
 
Stillness, but not silence
A loon’s plaintive call
Hum of car tires on a road
Hidden deep in the hills across the lake
 
Circular liquid remnant
Far from shore
Unnoticed, unheard
Fish breaking the surface
 
Chilled
Time to go into the cabin
Grateful, blessed, a gift
Daybreak

 © 2013 Thomas W. Cummins

A Small Signal From the Wood’s Edge

August 4, 2013

—∞—

Even on a sunny day
It’s dark at the lawn’s edge
Where the undergrowth begins
At the foot of the hill
The edge of the woods
 
A small signal of some kind
Flashes from that shadowy realm
What could it be?
Horton isn’t here to interpret
Or explain tiny messages
 
What could it be?
My mind goes racing
Imagination fills
To overflowing
What reason would reject
 
A tiny village is there
A candle in the window
The cell window of a monk
Working by candlelight
Transcribing, copying, praying
 
Sun glints off blades
As skaters
Circle a frozen pond
On a crisp
Late afternoon
 
A damsel
In a castle keep
Her mirror
Signaling
Her lover
 
Approaching
I found a fragment
The least bit of a leaf
On a silken thread
Moving in the breeze

© 2013 Thomas W. Cummins

Nowhere To Be Found

July 24, 2013

A sleepy afternoon in the north woods. If my muse came along, she is nowhere to be found. But I shall make the best of it and settle down with Team of Rivals.

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Alone Again Naturally

July 19, 2013

Yesterday we visited the remaining spouse of a couple we have known for 49 years. She is now a widow of ten days.

As we talked, I was reminded of the lyrics of the song by Gilbert O’Sullivan, “Alone Again Naturally”:

Couldn’t understand
Why the only man
She had ever loved
Had been taken

I Saw Her Coming

June 29, 2013

—∞—

 

About one block
Into my morning run
My moment of solitude
Listening to birds
Feeling the rain
Leftover rain
Last night’s rain
Peering over
Leaves’ edges
Before completing
Their journey
Plunging to the pavement
Below
 
I saw her coming
A half block away
Do you ever feel like
Not talking?
I mean really
Not talking?
Maybe I could
Commence my running
Pick up my pace
Smile and wave
Hurry on by
 
Anyway,
I stopped
In the sun
I stopped
Foolishly
In the burning-through-
Humid-morning-air
Hot sun
I stopped
We talked
And we talked
We talked
About her son
Normally with her
 
A man with a disability
Developmental
He is her constant companion
Except
When he is in daycare
A respite
For her
A break
For her
Relief from his 35 years
For her
So she walks
And she talks
If one stops
For her

 © 2013 Thomas W. Cummins