At first SIGHT, Elsa seemed ill-suited to SPEAK for the team. She was a rookie, and still figuring out how to conduct herself. Furthermore, in a tense conversation that morning, Elsa and her colleagues had discussed the importance of today’s meeting with Lord Aldridge. A lot was riding on this meeting. After much back and forth, it was decided that Elsa should be the spokeswoman. His Lordship was a bit of a loose cannon, especially where women were concerned, and they really needed him to stay focused. The goal was, naturally, to make sure that the funding of the expedition was not going to evaporate unexpectedly. A firm hand was needed, someone unafraid and not easily ruffled. Elsa came, shall we say from a less genteel background than the rest of the group. She was unafraid of the SEAMY side of life. Indeed, she had laughed at the idea that Lord Aldridge could unsettle her with his erratic nature, not to speak of his tendency to introduce dubious topics of conversation. “Ha, let him try and distract me,” she had said. “I have seen things and heard even more on a SCALE that he will be hard-pressed to top.” And with that, the Ladies Archeological Society of Bristol felt prepared to meet with their new patron.

Georg’ann

BELOW the window LEDGE
there’s a wooden chair, of sorts.
Backless with curved delicate arms.
Sometimes they seem ALIVE,
like wings in motion.
The cane seat is covered
with faded Turkish pillow.
It’s a favorite cat perch.

From the sapphire blue couch
I watch her watch the garden.
Today the Japanese MAPLE
is especially active
with cardinals and chickadees.

Perhaps they’d like STALE bread.
It isn’t right for French toast.
Not interested in making croutons or crumbs.

The SCALE of today is balanced.
Reminder to move gingerly,
speak truth kindly and quietly.

Heather

Feelings ERUPT up and out: there are times when it is necessary, a MEANS of clearing out the cobwebs and old debris. The things that have been held out of a reflex and CHAFE, like a stone in a shoe or ill-fitting clothes. The tears that fall serve to wash away those old modes of emotions. After, there is not a FLAKE or dust mote in sight, clean and clear, with plenty of space to explore new ways of being and interacting.

Georg’ann

A brief VISIT to BREAK
from this capacious solitude.
She sits across from me
I hear her voice
yet the words are lost
as I am lost

in the elegance of her ANKLE.
Lost in the tiny FLAKE of pastry
that clings to her moving lips.
Lost in the folds of fabric
draping across her various angles,

noting how the tiny birds
in the pattern disappear into crevices,
then fly into view again as she moves.
How like a bird I am today,
darting in and out.

Heather

TREAD on a BLANK square
Get the CHALK out
Sidewalk transformed!

Georg’ann

CRAWL over the cat,
she who lays CLAIM to the bed.
CHALK it up to love.

Heather

Once upon a time, long ago, WHERE the trees grew tall and the people were content, and the King and Queen were fair and just, there was a Princess who wanted to EVADE marriage. You see she was very happy being single. She told her parents, the aforementioned just and fair King and Queen, that she wanted to SEIZE life by the horns and ride along the FENCE, wild and free, for as long as she could. (The Princess loved to try out metaphors – there was no fence, as despite the tall trees, this Kingdom was urban). The King and Queen, being fair and just as well as loving their daughter very much, agreed to notify the YENTE to cancel the search for a spouse. But they wanted something in return. (For being fair and just as rulers and parents, this was an opportunity to teach about commitments and energy exchanges among people) They required the Princess to choose a trade and not just ride free, but also to learn. The Princess thought long and hard, deciding finally that what she wanted most to learn was how to cook. This would be not only fun, but also useful, teaching many skills, including generosity. For what cook doesn’t love to share the results of their labor? And so, after much study and dedication mixed with just the right amount of metaphorical horn seizing, the Princess catered a gigantic feast featuring her signature PENNE all’arrabbiata. The fair and just King and Queen were very proud of her. And the people were even more content to have such a skilled chef for a Princess. And they all lived happily ever after.
Oh, what about the marriage you ask? Well, that’s a story for a different day.

Georg’ann

Friends had EXTRA. Called,
invited me to their HOUSE
for a simple summer meal
of gazpacho, tabouli, crackers
and cheese, a bit of fruit salad.

Contentment came in slices
each time the KNIFE cut
through the earthy hard cheese.
Taste softening the soup’s acidity.
All elements complimentary.
Balance in taste, texture, color.

Leftover pesto PENNE was offered,
should I want a bite.
No inclination to add
another element, I declined.

In a further bit of spontaneity
we played a new board game.
One that was strategic,
and like the meal, aesthetic
in design with a sumptuous feel.

Heather

Plan the garden, create the context
Weeds and chaos are without BLAME
We invest for now, so LATER blossoms

Ebb and flow,
RELAY and relate
Containing the FERAL
As well as the tamed

Georg’ann

Nothing so PLAIN as this
realization, LATER is now.
Has not in fact come EARLY.
Yet came with excessive speed
one slow moment at a time.
Now like a FERAL feline, caged.
Waiting for the spring to release,
a new season to begin.

Heather

Step with WHOLE foot
TREAD carefully
Plants and bugs REIGN
Supreme in the summer forest
Birds call, sun shines
Like a distant EMBER
In the July humidity
SURER foot dodges the nettle
SUPER power avoids the bee

Georg’ann

Watching a sailboat navigate the SOUND,
I imagine a SUAVE scene aboard.
There is a mystique to sailing,
that comes from too many
media images.
SUPER sleek, leisure class
fantasies depicted.
Windswept but never disheveled.
It’s the same with convertibles.
My reality is always wind whipped with watering eyes
that no pair of sunglasses
or chic scarf can prevent.

Heather

The STORM had put out the campfire. The absence of SMOKE spoke to how long the fire had been out. “Hungry and tired, that’s what we are. What do you say we grab everything, throw it in the trunk and drive to town? I can throw on that flowered SMOCK you like so much and you can take me out for some pizza.” And with that, we ended our camping adventure.

Georg’ann

Time is out of REACH, high
there on the classroom wall.
Can only watch the little hands
of the CLOCK go slowly round.

Art class now, little hands
make big messes. Reaching.
Inevitable they will KNOCK
over the paint cups. Eyes wide.

Teacher takes STOCK. Sighs.
Reassures with gentle eyes.
Begins to move swiftly. Adept.
SMOCK remains unscathed.

Heather

SPEND time with a child and
Find them QUITE without GUILE,
Pouring JUICE, all the while
Chatting to beat the band

Georg’ann

Oh my, SALTY girl.
Save an OUNCE of sauce for me.
Let’s JUICE this dance floor!

Heather

As I take an evening walk along the BEACH, I am dismayed at the line of TRASH on the sand. There are few shells and many are broken, as if a petulant demon had come through and attempted to SMASH them all. Next I see what at first look like little tire tracks, but I soon realize that they are the tracks made by baby turtles, newly hatched and scrambling to the sea. Looking up, I see a crowd gathered. And as I get closer I realize that these are local volunteers who are protecting the turtle hatchlings. I stand by them, the volunteers and spectators, cheering on the little turtles. AWASH with emotions at the fragility of this life, as well as the hopefulness of the moment.

Georg’ann

CHASE around the park.
By the slide, FLASH impish grin,
face AWASH with glee.

Heather

I ponder the words. Close my eyes and see what images emerge. The first image that pops up is followed by a caption, a single sentence that uses all the words. It sounds like an odd, nonsensical story: “The JUMBO COVER made a ROCKY path to the TORCH on the PORCH.” Uncertain I will be able to unsee /undo that, I am grateful that I only have to write it, not illustrate it.

Georg’ann

I like to sit on the PORCH and watch the neighborhood pass by. It is the kind of slow sitting that feels hopeful. Open to this varied place I inhabit, taking time for connection to it all. So much life passes by while I sit still in rapt attention, welcoming.

Heather

Lay a CLAIM and dig in
EXERT yourself and win
Or so the TROPE goes —
Is it the ROUTE forward:
Plunging ahead like heroes?
Or is it time for us to develop
A new FORTE
Bridging gaps and standing together?

Georg’ann

Self Unrecognized

No motivation to leave
the HOUSE today.
Much sitting here and there.
Thought about a MOVIE.
Not settled enough to commit.
Restless lethargy, strange FORCE.
Perhaps tomorrow I’ll FORGE
an exit strategy. Head to woods.
Or will lounging become
my new FORTE. Ever more
like an old house cat.

Heather

We GRASP hands holding on tight
Shadows dance and threaten
Surprised by the PRONG of an antler
Ah, it’s just the friendly neighborhood deer

Georg’ann

Multitudes for months.

The recovery NURSE waits
for the return to consciousness.
Has heated blankets and warm air
for my shivering body.

Pearls ADORN her neck each day.
Many hours together waiting through
many procedures, each with many steps.
Our conversations have also been pearls.

Tending to what went WRONG
initially, by listening then adjusting.
You found the key PRONG for comfort.
Safely held in care, I relax.

Today was the last treatment
yet I feel sadness to say goodbye.
Being nurtured in vulnerability
has been the healing I needed most.

Heather

I SCOOT to the edge of my seat on the bench. I cannot linger, and so I hastily check the CHART where the details of each hike are laid out. To say I am anxious is an understatement. I don’t do well on ice and the altitude of the climb is going to add to the challenge. Nothing to be done but move forward. I carefully fold the papers and put them away. Next, I adjust the CLEAT on my left boot, lift my pack onto my back, and get in line. I can feel the tension and apprehension around me. The sun is not up yet, and there is an eerie light. Big breath. Big sigh. I remind myself that I am just a CADET, standing with others who are starting out from the same place. Nevermind the stories I heard about what happened to the last crew of recruits. They can’t be true. Just stuff said to test us. Line starting to move, okay, let’s go.

Georg’ann

Duolingo for me

DAILY Italian lesson,
earns me BADGE after badge.
Becoming a CADET of sorts
in the Maritano family lineage.
Spanish never took,
my tongue resistant to rolling.
Now I embrace the full body
sensation of dramatic,
playful enunciations.

Heather

I stood tall and took a moment to SAVOR the sense of my own body. It was a nice pause as I SWEPT the porch. Returning to that task, I relished the movement – first sweeping from one side then the other. So delightful, to SPEND a moment just caught up in the SPELL of my own physicality, as I chased down a SPECK of dirt in the corner of the porch.

Georg’ann

Visits home.

You both on the porch SWING,
like many times before.
The continuity of the familiar
that never grows stale.
Season after season you return.
Rocking, talking, laughing there.

I SAVOR each moment,
as if it were wholly new,
with no assurance of another,
though it’s the steadiness that makes it precious. Funny
what we take for granted,
and what we never do.

I will SLEEP well tonight,
sated by your company.
Tomorrow there will be
a SPECK of sorrow
in the liminal space that anticipates your departure
while gathering the nectar
of the last day together.

Heather

It COULD have been a GREAT apartment. It was in Paris, after all. But, alas, it was January, and the FAINT winter light struggled to reach us. It was a weak glow through the window that looked out on what seemed no better than an air SHAFT, that narrow opening in the center of the building. We’d lean out as far as possible, in an effort to see if the sun was shining or if it was raining. Our accuracy was remarkably low.

Georg’ann

You got a root beer FLOAT,
I got a chocolate malt.
Walking through the CRAFT show,
hand in hand. Straws to lips.
Warm, cold, sweet.
We sat under a little bridge
looking for crawdads
in the creek.
A SHAFT of sunlight
came through the slats
highlighting the freckles
sprinkled across your cheek.

Heather

The sunlight, like a TORCH, blazing
The colors STAND out
Structural shapes draw us in —
From tiny, BITTY flowers
To tall wide blossoms —
All enjoy QUITE the array of visitors
Summer’s glorious scene

Georg’ann

In YOUTH
I was
actually
QUITE
the same.

Heather

You must be QUIET before I will SHARE. The slightest move, and I will skitter away, like a most vigilant creature. I am frightened of hurt, terrified of a puncture wound to the heart. I feel as if I will BLEED at the slightest touch. I do not mean to ENDOW you with such power. And truly, I yearn for connection. Would you consider setting out a DECOY you? One where I can practice vulnerability? I would be ever so grateful.

Georg’ann

Rolling the ROUND balls
under foot, feeling
the foundation soften.
Tingles, like pins and needles
spark all the way up my calves.

Trying to ADOPT a yielding
frame of mind for discomfort.
Imagine myself like a GEODE
Rough hewn, bumpy, blemished
sturdy seeming, yet breakable.
Exterior a DECOY for the interior
Radiant crystals hidden within.

Heather

It’s a CLEAR day. The sunlight perfectly hits the STONE wall along the picturesque Italian village street. The MOPED revs for the umpteenth time, while the model poses as flawlessly as she has every other time. The crew poised, and the cameras roll. Just another normal day in the world of VIDEO shoots, but quite the excitement for the bystanders.

Georg’ann

Skate equip diner mixed video

This collection of words
clearly wants to be a retro scene.
Notes for a screenplay.
Everyone must learn to SKATE.
EQUIP them with lighted wheels.
Do they go to a rink then to a DINER?
Or is it a diner where servers
are on skates?
We need a good MIXED soundtrack.
Oh to hell with all that,
let’s just make a music VIDEO!

Heather

Hounds chase and PIVOT
Baying, on the SCENT
Instinct prevails, driving
Them to ENACT their roles
Hunters follow, prey leads

Context is all
If I write of ancient days
Or if I write of now
Will you root for hound, hunter, or prey?

Georg’ann

TEASE me with delicacies,
fill my PLATE with goodies.
Let’s ENACT the ritual pleasures,
even as nothing pleases the palate
or sits well in the belly.
I remember who we are,
and longingly await my return.

Heather

Too BLAND, ptooey!
Scrabble about in the POUCH
Surely another SWEET
Somewhere in there
Oooh, a bit GRIMY
Covered in fluff
Give it a wipe
Pop in the mouth
Fix me up in a JIFFY!

Georg’ann

Wrapped in a hand painted bag,
enveloped in colorful tissue,
the gift was an elegant SCARF
of aqua and sky blue silk.

Her friend FOUND it
among discarded treasures
accumulated over decades.
Thought it matched her eyes.

The afternoon was a THEFT
of time, stolen hours together.
Went by in a JIFFY, conversation
like a hall of mirrors- never ending

Heather

It was a LIGHT sweet I wanted, the kind that you CRAVE as a delicate, yet delicious end to a meal. This made me even more determined to discover the CAUSE of the CAKEY, heavy mess in front of me. It’s times like this that I long for a baking expert to pop in, like a famous actor doing a CAMEO on a TV show. I would sigh with relief, and we’d wink and nod to the imagined audience (allowing for time for their recognition of the star). Then under the guise of being a neighbor just popping in, my baking dilemma would be deftly solved with a few witticisms and a bit of kitchen wisdom that would, of course, also solve whatever existential crisis was going on. Plot threads neatly resolved, cue fade out on happy people eating aforementioned baked good, with an upswell of the theme song. And that’s all folks!

Georg’ann

In dream, soft VOICE calls.
Whisperer in OCHER gown
makes her CAMEO.

Heather

It is no rebuke
Nor do we CHIDE the Fates
If we make our own way
STAMP a distinctive mark along the path
Claim desires and needs
We can defy the Oracle and
Reshuffle the TAROT deck
No need to find FAULT or
Starve ourselves GAUNT
Grace will flow
Beauty will abound
We are enough
If we just open our eyes

Woke craving fresh JUICE.
Orange and pulpy. None FOUND.
GAUNT, need refreshed

Heather

A PEACH on the SLATE gray counter
Yellow orange rose – the colors
BLAZE against the drab surface
I brace for rotten interior
Ready to BLAME climate and capitalism in equal measure
I lift my BLADE and slice
Twist free the central pit and expose
The brilliant yellow and heady scent
If it were music, this would be the BLARE of a trumpet
The wail of a saxophone
And the sultry song of a blues singer
All rolled into one fuzzy package

Georg’ann

This year I was EXTRA AWARE
of how the blasts can SCARE.
In celebrations all through town,
loud pops over and over.
Our anthem is a war song.
“Rockets red GLARE,
bombs bursting in air.”
Guns blasting death.
The FLARE in my periphery
is reminder of war ravages,
the BLARE assaults my senses.
No joy in this cacophony.
Wars, big and small,
raging throughout the world.
In streets, neighborhoods, houses.
Children delighting in sparklers
remind me of other children
no delight in view.

Heather

A long CABLE swung from above. I had to dodge it, and almost tripped over an art nouveau vase that was precariously placed next to an arts and crafts cabinet. This antique shop was pretty wild. I had never been in before, but I was looking to sell or perhaps TRADE some items. I had unusual pieces in good SHAPE, including some art, nicely framed. True, at least one was of the “dogs playing cards” variety. But it was a less frequently reproduced one, painted by Coolidge (the dogs are testifying in court, done around 1909). And I had a copy of his opera about mosquitoes. Surely there was a buyer for such oddities? Now, if I could only find the proprietor. Where on earth was he?

Georg’ann

Sauntering down the street,
sun hitting the silky fabric.
Her dress the color of fresh
squeezed orange JUICE
pouring over her SHAPE
like a glass of refreshment.
I drank her in one long swig.

Heather

The sisters were having a squabble. From the other room, it sounded like a FIGHT to the finish. With an effort, I heave myself out of the chair and check in. “What’s going on?” A chorus of disgruntled girls answers me. I hear “PEARL,” “CANDY,” and of course the inevitable finger pointing of siblings. A few questions later, and it appears that broken bits of a necklace had ended up in a bowl where someone had dumped an assortment of hard candies and now there was a kerfuffle over sorting, rescuing, and claiming all the various bits. Called upon to adjudicate, I approached it with the seriousness of a CANON lawyer faced with a thorny Church issue. I hemmed and hawed, weighed and balanced. The act, after all, was as important as the decision. In the end, all parties were pleased and order was restored in the playroom. As for me, I returned to my chair.

Georg’ann

There was no TRICK to finding myself
in worship this Sunday morning.
I sat.
I sat and looked out the window.
The sun in this Japanese maple
has become my favorite temple.
The CAUSE of stillness aided
by dreaminess, the weight
of time like a chenille blanket.
Musical layers come together
as a single CANON.
Birdsong, purring, soft snoring
and the lyrical voice of Pádraig Ó Tuama.
Each its own steady rhythm.

Heather

I didn’t realize that the second day would be more TOUGH than the first. If I could ORDER my scraped knee to hurt less, then I certainly would. But I know that pain will lessen with time, and I need to ALLOW for healing. I will never again SCOFF at a scraped knee as a minor injury!

Georg’ann

This summer, an intriguing PAUSE.
an opportunity to practice
the SKILL of receiving.
Attention like a STORM.
Often the slowing down into coziness
type, held and captivated by the shift
in air, sky, water, color.
A storm that soothes.
At other times the kind of storm
that blows too hard, unsettles
saturates, floods, too much to fast.
Aspects of self and other SHOWN
as we stretch capacities,
flex new patterns of interaction.
Nothing to SCOFF at, these lessons.
And soon the summer gone.

Heather

The end of the day, time for our FINAL walk. As we turn to cross the street, I am talking, about to share a story of an aggressive driver who frightened me today. My attention is drawn in multiple places. I feel emotionally off-balance. And it is mirrored in my body tilting, hitting just right, on the CREST of some storm debris. Stupid stick. Stupid shoe. Stupid me. Down I go, swearing loudly, feeling the CRUSH of sidewalk dust and sand, scraping my knee, banging my hands hard as I go down. You reach to help; it barely registers. Flashes of memory – falling on the asphalt parking lot that was our only playground at school. Familiar stinging sensations — my knee, my hands, my face wet with angry tears. Seven, eight, many ages in between, and now sixty-five — the layers of memory keeping us company as we walk home.

Georg’ann

My friend, so kind, gifts me
with 10 potato and pea patties.
Low on the hot spices
refreshing raita on top.
High protein comfort
for this hard to satisfy time
when taste buds fail, and belly
rejects things oh so quickly.

She’s ADEPT at Indian food.
Better than any local restaurant,
even Laxmi will VOUCH
for the authenticity of details.
With each bite I taste her care,
knowing the love in every herb
CRUSH and spice sizzle.
Sense her gentle hands patiently patting the rounds.

If intention could be cooked
I’ve been served a platter
of protection and wellness.
A delicious act of generosity.

Heather

We are AWARE of the need to BLEND our efforts and to bring together our best selves. We have decided that in order to achieve our goals, we will not focus on what is owed, to move beyond an assessment of a DEBIT column, as it were. That would only serve to distract us from our real purpose, the saving of lives and the ending of poverty and struggle. Years in the making, we are pleased to DEBUT this new coalition, where we will all come together in the fight to save the planet, our home.

Georg’ann

A child’s LAUGH comes in
from the park, breaks the QUIET
DEBUT today’s joy.

Heather

I am convinced that the bunnies are to BLAME. Darn them! I shake my fist and POUND the ground in frustration. First the strawberries and now the eggplant flowers – gone! I have an image of Peter Rabbit in his little blue jacket stuffing his pockets. Oh if only I could FRISK the little guy and make the stolen goodies tumble out! I’d pinch his furry little THIGH and scold him, I would!

Georg’ann

AFTER the long hike
absorbing tree medicine
no bug STING, THIGH hurts.

Heather

With EQUAL parts despair and relief, I CAVED in and gave over to just stopping. Sick of feeling helpless, I close my computer. I adjust the DRAPE of my my shawl and lean back into the chair. The SHADE of the patio umbrella feels protective, and under its embrace I focus on the present moment. I am struggling with that shift, though, longing for some clever or wise ADAGE that will aid me in making meaning of this moment in history. Finally giving up, I pick up the clippers and my trowel. The garden, at least, feels manageable.

Georg’ann

Saturday I pulled out the CD player,
listened to old collections.
MUSIC from friendships, courtships,
commitment celebrations, parenting,
kitchen dancing music, car riding music,
pensive nostalgic soundtracks,
buoyant freedom singing aloud tunes.

On my PLATE was nothing,
a huge expanse of time to be nowhere.
To do nothing. GRADE A+ time alone.
Minus the weakness and nausea.
A day full of ADAGE potential.
No end to pithy statements
on solitude
or illness
on connection
or contentment

Heather

The FIBER of the cloth tie was already frayed before the BLAST. The cloth had BOUND together a set of treasures sent me by a childhood pal, a BUDDY most dear. The wind spread those mementos across the yard. I struggled to find all the pieces in the aftermath of the explosion. Fragments are all I have left, and I feel so unmoored, having so little to remind me of our friendship from so long ago. A chunk of my life almost gone forever.

Georg’ann

The SIGHT of you here, now
my heart BLOWN wide open.
Together let’s take a BREAK,
what do you say, BUDDY?

Heather

Bridget waits for the COVER of a crowd. Nothing quite like normal noise and activity for hiding things you would rather not have noticed. Walking normally, as goes down the market street, she stops in front of a shoe store. To anyone watching, they would not think twice: nicely dressed woman, staring at some high-end shoes. As a small group of people proceed down the sidewalk behind her, another woman pushes between them. There is no OVERT motion. No one would have noticed that this second woman pushed a note into Bridget’s waiting hand. She waits a bit, and then casually walks on, finally ducking into a coffee shop and sitting at a table right in the middle. She orders a cappuccino and a scone. Once these arrive, it feels safe enough to open the note. Bridget reads what her next steps are – a rendezvous in Cedar GROVE, near the cemetery. Bridget frowns. She would prefer something a little less cloak-and-dagger. Oh well, maybe the other side has something to PROVE. Or (shudder), is she being set up? That last time didn’t go well – her car still bears the marks of having to dodge bullets as she DROVE away from a midnight meeting in a dark and deserted place. At least this meeting is for 7 pm. So, a not-yet-dark and deserted place. That sounds only minimally better than last time. Wonder if she could get away with asking Beverly to hide in the back seat – might be good to not go alone to this one.

Georg’ann

In the NIGHT, I move strategically
trying not to disturb the cat.
Sometimes it turns out the lump is blanket,
not feline, she jumped down.
Its not infrequent that my body defers,
tries not to disturb
tries not to unsettle
tries to give space
While craving to be close.

How does a 6 pound cat
SCORE the entirety of a full bed
whether there or not.
What is there to PROVE
in not claiming space
in not claiming comfort
in legs contorted.
As if there were a DROVE
of beasts here.
Despite the disturbance,
I like her here, even when
its just the assumption of her
presence that I accommodate

Heather