I watch as they come, one after another — some to BATHE, some to drink — in the heated bird bath. We have a TACIT understanding, the birds and I, that I will dependably put food and water out for them and they will oblige by coming to our backyard. We cheerfully ignore one another during the hot days, but once the temperatures drop, we are very aware of each other. There is no cat or dog in the yard to TAUNT or threaten them, so they feel quite safe hanging around waiting. I step out each morning, politely saying hello, as I refill feeders and replenish the water. They stare at me from a safe distance — mostly doves, wrens, finches, juncos — ready to land and feast. Their various shades of brown, TAWNY, bits of red, and flashes of white blend with the fallen leaves and grey skies. I am fascinated by how this drab color scheme nevertheless conveys energy and brings me so much joy. I
could watch their activities for hours as if it were the most multicolored spectacular production I have ever seen.

Georg’ann

We walk along the pier,
headed toward the sea lion viewing spot,
our GREAT pleasure to watch them
lolling on the platforms
that support the structure.
Their huge bodies tucked in mass
a few feet above the water.
Along the way we stop
at Marini’s candy shop
to buy a pound of TASTY
salt water TAFFY.
The sugary bites we put in our mouths
are as soft and sweet as my daughter’s sun kissed cheeks.
I look from her to the creatures below,
noting the TAWNY markings
of their fur and her freckles.

Heather

I cherish THOSE after-party moments —
SORRY that it had to end —
When the morning silence holds
More than the absence of SOUND —
Feeling that connections have softened
The often too SOLID barriers that isolate:
I sit at the same table, replete, and
I can believe in a world that has
Possibilities and abundance.

Georg’ann

Fluid BELOW, surface SOLID
This season, layered states.
Union of opposition.

Heather

The SPACE between us almost BROKE me — I was
QUITE uncertain of how to proceed. No GUIDE available for navigating this distance. Even though it was almost four decades ago, I remember it well. It was the time before emails, no cell phones. Just letters and long-distance phone calls. We did end up surviving that time. But the vulnerability is occasionally still there: a cold chilling finger reaching across the years.

Georg’ann

Dinner preparation comes to a halt,
You STARE, fury in your eyes,
as I place the garlic CLOVE into the press.
Harshly you JUDGE me, we argue
about garlic- to press or to peel and mince.
A decade passes, standing in your kitchen
you GUIDE an unpeeled clove into a silver press.
Squeezing firmly you acknowledge
the lowering of your standard.
We sip wine and snip herbs,
two sisters cooking together.

Heather

I WOULD gladly be
SWORN to thee
Cupid’s ARROW
I will not flee
And when, at last, a kiss
You THROW to me:
Thus my fate sealed,
My heart forever healed

Georg’ann

What’s the STORY, moon?
Shinning into my TOWER
to THROW these love beams.

Heather

Little Cat

GRACE embodied, step
So QUIET – alert, ears
Twitching
Veritable QUEEN
Of the garden

Georg’ann

The hand was surely won, she’d DRAWN the QUEEN
she needed! Oh, she could not wait to lay her cards down.
Then came devastation. Poor Eleanor’s triple was outplayed by Jamie’s full house. Thus ended the holiday card playing tradition for another year.

Heather

It’s been a little rough coming home. I had imagined landing and being able to just move forward: no jet lag, no illness. I wanted to believe that I could just STEAM ahead – fully, completely – like I have done before. But, alas, that has not been the case. I struggle with how off-balance I have been, and this serves to ERODE my confidence in my ability to travel for such a long time. CHIEF among my concerns is my aging body, as well as an increased sense of vulnerability when traveling. Will we have to curtail travel abroad? Limit ourselves to the PINEY woods of North Carolina or art museums of Indiana? Or travel virtually – like the old travel films at the IU Auditorium (aimed at the armchair or solely nostalgic traveler)? I grapple with the notion that all too soon I might be relegated to staring at a PIXEL on a screen, trying to convince myself it’s as good as being there.

Georg’ann

Our morning activity,
a zen photography walk
to cultivate presence-
necessary for sitting with
rather than doing to

After they’d gone for the day
I created a slideshow
of their world views
seeing what of mine
I recognized in theirs

In the grey of today
I’m holding LIGHT
shining through SILKY milkweed filament
gossamer strands beginning
to separate, finding the wind
they’ll blow across the FIELD
This image in PIXEL form
opens a softness in me
so delicate I, too, could be
carried on a gentle breeze

Heather

It was in the middle of a very bad STORM, exactly the kind of situation where Delia hated to have her phone go off. You would think with all these years of working as a doula she would have grown accustomed to it. After all, changes in barometric pressure – the usual thunderstorms, tornadoes, and snowstorms – did seem to throw her clients into labor. She had taken many a middle of the night drive in bad weather. Nevertheless, she didn’t love it. At least she had gotten a chance to take the CANOE out this afternoon, well before the clouds had gathered.

Her conversation with her client was short and encouraging. Delia had a list of questions she always asked after the obvious ones about length and timing of contractions. This client had indeed napped and eaten a normal dinner, things that would be helpful later. Hanging up, she spun around, frustrated that it always took longer to get out of the house than she hoped. Now,where had she put her keys? Ah, there – on the PIANO. Taking a big breath, she quietly opened the door and stepped into wind and rain. Making a dash for the car seemed her only choice. A wild night to be born, she thought, as she took a breath. Settling in for the drive across town, a grin spread across her face, downpour or no downpour, she thought, “God, I love my job!”

Georg’ann

After the ANGRY eruption
we both sat in silence.
BLANK faced, no response.
Despair settled like volcanic ash.
Eventually one of us rose,
and then the other, retreating
from the massive mess.
Walking past the music STAND
I regretted having used my voice,
not the PIANO, to unleash my fury.
My words, he never understands.

Heather

Sara sought to TEACH her dog how to CARRY things for her. Her sweet girl was really smart and possessed of a very CANNY mind. Once the she had figured out what was wanted, the dog did indeed perform to perfection every time. And then one day it occurred to Sara that the dog was sneaking bits of food out of the bags she carried. It was the cherry tomatoes that gave it away, something the dog loved like a little kid with CANDY.

Georg’ann

What is the EXTRA mile?
where is the line drawn?
and who drew it?

taking a DAILY measurement
of sufficiency is HANDY
before going past the finish,

abundant like a box of CANDY
or meager reserve, insufficient
stop at your line to assess

Heather

A PLATE with cheeses. Two knives artfully arranged. Basket with a selection of breads and crackers. Bottle of water. Carafe of wine. Two glasses.

I CHOSE carefully, with you in mind. Thinking and considering what would please and delight. A plate of fruit – picked to tempt and tantalize. Contrasts of colors and textures. Focus on just the right level of ripeness in the pear. Crisp and sharp for the apple. Soft and sensuous for the berries.

Every item expresses gratitude. Each piece says welcome. My heart full – appreciative that you wanted to make the DRIVE, make the effort to see me.

Other lovers might take a different measure – be impressed by the elegant restaurant, the need to stand in a QUEUE for the hard to get in spot, a brag that I had to bribe and wheedle a reservation at such and such a place.

Not for us. This, this simple homely display is more than enough.

I make a few small adjustments and sit. Holding the tension between confidence and vulnerability, waiting for you to complete the scene.

Georg’ann

He moves like the tin man
stilted, unbalanced.
EXTRA focus needed to move
from one place to the next.

Lacking POISE is an adjustment
for this man who used to run
and dance, move with a swagger.

We don’t DELVE too deeply
on the loss of grace.
Many are the laden conversations
we don’t have after he struggles
to stand in QUEUE for this or that.

I walk ahead, beside, or behind
ready to steady should the tilt topple.
Sometimes we walk independently,
as if in the past.
Or apart in some place far less honorable.

Heather

My mind feels quite STALE. I try and PRINT out some ideas, but really, I can’t THINK of where to begin.

Georg’ann

An EXTRA serving of pie?
Don’t THINK twice!

Heather

She walked out onto the stage, certain that the SWEAT beading on her brow would be visible from the balcony. The musicians waited, attentive. She picked up the BATON and so it began. From that point forward, everything was a blur: she knows that she got through the concert, they did well, the applause was real. But honestly it wasn’t until the PARTY afterwards that she came back down to Earth. Like waking up after a particularly long and involved dream, she blinked a few times and wondered how she was standing, holding a glass of champagne, accepting congratulations, and smiling. Fortunately, her trance state did not cause her to TARRY, as it would have been bad form to be TARDY to the celebration after the concert.

Georg’ann

World needs EXTRA care
Too much TRASH everywhere, sad
Response is TARDY

Heather

Feeling his GLOVE gently brush the edge of her own, in that vulnerable spot on the underside of her wrist… Well, it is not an exaggeration to say that she felt quite FAINT for a moment. It was like offering a CRUST of bread to someone who is starving. Indeed, in a way she was starving – starved of touch, of intimacy. It had been far too long since she had felt that kind of desire, the kind that makes you weaken in the knees. For now she accepted this little taste, and would TRUST that there was more to come.

Georg’ann

After resisting for months, I found myself making a QUICK turn, unexpectedly heading toward the POUND. I’d never been before.
“We’re just looking!” I tell my daughter.
3 hours later I have to LAUGH as we complete the adoption paperwork. Two adorable kitties are coming home with us. We’ve passed the test, they will TRUST us to be capable pet owners for JoJo and Stella.
After a few days, Stella will come to choose a neighbor family, rejecting us fully. JoJo will become Dolce, an aptly named feline – truly one of the sweetest cats ever known.

Heather

To concoct a potion for clarity about the future
Arise at the PRIME hour
Into a tiny cup
WHISK together three quail eggs
Drop in one anise seed
And two drops of dew
Holding the cup
Closing your eyes
Spin around
And on the SIXTH rotation
Open your eyes
And where your SIGHT lands
Will be the way your path lies
Quickly swallow the potion
To seal your fate
And to ensure that
A clarifying dream
Will come to you that night

Georg’ann

When my world seems off kilter,
I CLEAN the refrigerator.
Taking everything out,
wiping from top to bottom.
Oh joyous suds and sparkle.
Here things can be made right.
The worse I feel, the better she looks.

All items to spread on bread
in a GROUP,
as are the enhancers – red curry,
tube of tomato paste, capers, olives,
sesame oil, soy sauce and such.
Those clear door pockets filled TIGHT,
ordered by category.

Everything in SIGHT, ready to go.
No creepy crusts or crumbs,
no sticky residues, forgotten
bits of this and that in containers
that shouldn’t be opened.
No more shriveled lime,
withered greens, molded zucchini.

Want to know my state of being?
Check the refrigerator.

Heather

We sneak up to the SLATE gray wall. It is oh so tempting. With a quick nod of agreement, we take out our SPRAY cans and get started. Acting fast, we each paint. Our words were SAUCY, but not vulgar; SASSY, but not aggressive. We liked to believe that is why they were left up longer than some graffiti.

Georg’ann

Detective Marsh had an AGILE mind. It bent, leapt, and stretched in ways that were impossible to follow. How she kept TRACK of so many seemingly insignificant details was a marvel. She never wrote anything down and yet was able to make connections from all the minutia stored in ways that connected obscure dots toward a clear picture. In all her work, she was always HAPPY when she could rule out a NANNY. That was a sacred trust she idealized, having been raised by a beloved one herself. Her DADDY had needed quite a bit of help after her mother died, working long, unpredictable hours. A detective’s job is not particularly compatible with single parenting a smart and SASSY child, though clearly they were cut of the same cloth. While he taught her a lot, he delighted in all the ways she came to surpass him. Like us all, he was in awe of her abilities.

Heather

Her GRIEF, still a little raw, left her shy in a crowd. If she could only figure out what EXACT spot to stand in, so that she would see the fewest people, yet not seem aloof or rude. Not an easy thing to do, admittedly. She thought she had found the perfect spot, and sat carefully composing her face to look engaged, but not inviting. All seemed to be destined to work out. But it really wasn’t MEANT to work out – at least not the way she intended. For that was the night that the real healing began, the night that she met the one who was to become the love of her life.

Georg’ann

READY, set, go
BEACH retreat
TEASE and tempt
Not MEANT to be

Heather

She who tries to deny the passage of time is like someone trying to walk a WHALE on a LEASH.

Georg’ann

Know the SPACE within
where the BEAST dwells without LEASH
Tend her, lest she bite

Heather

TIRED and looking for a PLACE to address some basic needs – SLAKE my thirst, fill my belly – I land in a small restaurant in a glitzy shopping mall. These places that I would not consider at home, become possible perhaps even attractive when traveling. I have no trouble deciding on a bowl of ramen, noodles and broth sound comforting. A man approaches me and asks if he could help me – befuddled I say no, and then realized too late that he worked there. I BLAME my misunderstanding on the fact that he is dressed in ordinary clothes, nothing indicating his status. Fortunately, he takes no offense and returns to take my order. Relief that I will soon have a bowl of deliciousness in front of me, I allow my mind to turn off for a moment, and slump ever so slightly in my chair. I rest my chin in my hand, and look without seeing, staring at my reflection in the GLAZE coating on the table top.

Georg’ann

I felt the push and pull, the way it is when one becomes part of a CROWD. Hard to TEASE out individual from collective energy, we all are swept up. Bodies, voices in unison. No BLAME in falling off the spiritual PLANE for a bit in the midst of the game as we boo the refs and the pep crew jeers the other team. These final minutes of the championship game are too tense. Later there will be no memory, it will all be a GLAZE. No conscious thought functions in such a surge of adrenaline.

Heather

I miss the birds who PERCH outside my window. I miss them flying ABOUT, their sweet songs filling the air. I know that when we get home the flowers – from DAISY, rose, snapdragon, and more – will be gone for the season. But it will not be dead and boring. As we enter the FINAL days of our trip, I look forward to returning to the winter antics of the squirrels, NINJA-like in their leaps and struggles to steal from the bird feeders.

Georg’ann

I was GIVEN gifts
Took time, developed my skill
Now, NIFTY NINJA

Heather

You stomp and mutter, tension radiates off you like heat from a fire. I TWINE myself into knots, picking up on the stress and wishing that I had a magic wand for you. You are more dear to me than I can say, and if being THERE for you could fix it, then surely I have done so? But I know it is not enough. I will not stop trying – I unclench my jaw, relax my shoulders, hoping that you will feel the shift in me and translate it into lowered tension in yourself. Just know, my dear, that I would not TRADE a single moment for anything: not for less stress or less tension. You are worth it all.

Georg’ann

Curve in road AHEAD
a steep GRADE too, feel caution
Cannot TRADE places, go

Heather

We used a FABLE to PAINT a picture of the day the MANIAC succumbed to his MANIA. Everyone found it very instructive.

Georg’ann

Looking out the hotel window, 4th floor
top floor, watching the sun rise
up and out of the horizon,
where an empty field meets the Wabash River.
A small, vivid band of color
slowly spreading like watercolor.

Closer in we watch traffic pick up
in the McDonalds drive-thru across the parking lot.
Amused by a state trooper in line.
We guess he likely gets the egg McMuffin.

My eyes wander to the STAIN on my shoe, a drip of blood.
In which I now see a gritty crime story unfurling,
the PANIC in the scene as MANIA settles into reality.

“I counted! 15 cars in the drive-thru
and 7 Fed Ex trucks getting gas.”
pulls me back into another storyline.
One in which a woman and child sit side by side
on a fluffy white comforter, feet propped up on the air system,
unhurriedly watching a tiny square of the world start it’s day.

Let me write tender slice of life scenes
from the Holiday Inn Express on Joe Fox Lane.

Heather

She walked down the street, striding forth in a way that made clear her right to CLAIM the space. She was surrounded by the grotesque capitalist distortion of sex. No prude she, but the air was thick with threat. The further she walked, the more she could feel it: that horrid possibility of victimization, a vulnerability that she could only ABHOR. Her best protection was to make clear that she was self-contained, her own AGENT, independent and focused. Eyes forward and looking slightly down, communicating an ARDOR only for moving forward in space.

Georg’ann

Yet AGAIN, going ASKEW
ADAPT myself anew,
wrapped like a vine on an arbor
-woe, theses contortions of ARDOR

Heather

G’a:
Awakening in a different bed, I SWEAR that I will make an effort to be in the present. Let’s begin this second half of the trip with a CLEAN and fresh start, even as part of my heart wants to PLEAD a retreat into self away from the challenges of travel. But later, we drive past a field. Against the GLEAM of the afternoon sun, the sheep BLEAT in the field, their white bodies contrasting with their surroundings. I soak in the peaceful pastoral scene, adding it to my repertoire of images from our journey, protection against the coming BLEAK winter months.

This is part of the trade offs of travel, balancing challenges with comfort, testing edges with playing it safe. Stretching myself, so that I have increased resilience.

Georg’ann

Will weather SPOIL the fun?
Slow the costumed parade?

Snap came the cold.
Flicker went the FLAME

CLEAR, stars shinning bright
outlook not so BLEAK

Crinkle came the candy
Smash went the pumpkin

Heather

The paintings have a sameness about them: endless rows of holy women CLASP their hands to their hearts, eyes raised as they EXALT and glorify God. Countless saints fall to knees on LOAMY soil, preparing to BRAWL with demons and dragons. All focused on a Holy GRAIL, to be worthy, to overcome essentially sinful human nature. I speed up my steps, uncertain that I can take one more Madonna with a still and expressionless face, one more oddly mature baby Jesus, weirdly proportioned. I rush forward in time, looking for secular, messy, more human-than-God art. I want to see well-fed Dutch merchants, glorious still-lifes with rabbit carcasses and snails, fishwives displaying their wares, rosy-cheeked Bacchus offering grapes with a seductive smile.

Georg’ann

Sitting with is the LEAST,
and the most, we have to offer.
Make no CLAIM, no FRAIL attempt
to present a gilded GRAIL.
All that is holy is right here,
me with you, you with me.

Heather

If you were BRAVE, you COULD wander out in search of a GHOST. I want to look for the sort that make doors close, turn lights off and on, makes eerie music play from non-existent PHONO devices. You know, the kind that make your hair stand on end and run fleeing down the hall when the house is deserted. Real ones, not the PHONY kind. What do you think?? I am game to show a little courage this Halloween. Want to hunt some ghosts with me?

Georg’ann

On the COURT bounce, bounce
POISE as you jump, turn, and swoosh.
No PHONY, real deal!

Heather

Closing her eyes she can feel the centuries layered into the walls of the ancient church. Standing by a BREAK in the wall, a SALTY tear rolls down her cheek. How many bones broke to build this monument to faith? How many PAINS were endured by workers and their families? Who stood by the stone MASON and directed his work? Who determined when it was sufficient to honor the glory of kings and bishops?

Georg’ann

AFTER the quiet, more quiet
an expanse of stillness.
Only a few birds chirping
and an occasional gurgle from the refrigerator.

Hesitant to move lest I disrupt
this equilibrium.
Breathing carefully, allowing silent expansion.

Working on a puzzle, nothing PLAIN to my eye, very few distinctions
among a thousand bits of black and beige.
Another expanse, less soothing
if in a mode for completion.
Which I am not
today.

Next door trash is piled high in a WAGON,
the MASON has left for the day.

In this is everything.
Leave the debris.
No more building.
Quiet, more quiet
Expand in stillness.

Heather

Lining up the little jars of HONEY, at least a DOZEN, I pull out paper and pen. We are running a little taste experiment. We so love the subtle flavors produced by local flowers, and we are eager to try some new ones. The darker chestnut to the pale acacia ones. Each taste transports us, as we are BORNE along different tasting notes from the blooms of trees to the gentle wildflowers. Our experiment begins to feel not just a silly indulgence, but rather a NOBLE pursuit, pushing us to speak of biodiversity and climate change. We are eagerly taking notes, and spontaneously raise our voices: “All hail the mighty bee!”

Georg’ann

Watch the spider WEAVE,
Hold graceful image in STORE
of NOBLE worker

Heather

Looking down from the TOWER, I cast a BEADY on the impressive audio-visual equipment. We had watched them get ready for this now nightly show, from beginning to fruition. And, now, the show had happened often enough, that we knew the rhythm. First a sequence of lights and simple patterns to CHECK that all was ready. Then the show would begin, moving chronologically through the art of the city, projecting images to an uplifting soundtrack, picking up on certain artistic themes. We still felt a thrill of excitement – not at all dimmed by having watched them set up and EQUIP the space. On the contrary, it is still thrilling and has done much to PIQUE our interest in the local museums. Every night, we notice new details, and we excitedly make plans for the next day’s museum excursions.

Georg’ann

She drew the nest as if she were a bird.
WOVEN line by line, from the bottom up,
working around to create an open PLACE for 3 small eggs.
The final image looks like a black and white photo.

It took most of the day. She’d stunned herself giddy, full of pride.
At 93 she’d never done anything like it before
despite a lifetime of art making utilizing fanciful methods.

How any drawing comes into being seems to me
sprinkled with PIXIE dust, magical even as I watch an image emerge.

It does PIQUE my interest, there is a desire to grasp
what is it she did, what was it that was different,
from all her other line drawings.

Mostly I set the intellect aside,
delighting in imaging this woman I love dearly
spending all day fully becoming an industrious bird
Like the robins and doves that build each spring
in the eaves of my porch,
I see her deftly dart and swoop.

Heather

I YIELD to the moment
Tapping feet, a RHYME, a beat
Working it — to try and RETRY,
Making my baby smile

Georg’ann

Running errands for Aunt Patty is to enter into a very peculiar and exacting mission. For example, to mail a letter required purchase of STAMP, which seemed simple enough until I was instructed to go to the counter and make sure to give the envelope directly to a female clerk.

“I gave a man my letter the last time and it never arrived. And make sure you don’t get a TREND stamp, I don’t want my preferences to jeopardize delivery.”

There were similar instructions for gas, groceries, and re-arranging the dishes in her cabinets. Her son had discombobulated her equilibrium in the placement of cups on the left and on bowls on the right side of the shelf.

After all was done we sat for conversation and shared a LITER of water in her very RETRO living room. Not a thing has has moved since it was appointed in 1964.

While sitting the doctor’s office calls and asks her to RETRY the heart rate monitor, they do not like the 110 pulse reading given this morning.
She complies, grumbling all the while about being bothered while she has company.

Heather

Barely AWAKE, I PASTE a cheerful smile on my face. I want to RAISE the spirits of my traveling companions, and I want to CAUSE a wave of cheerfulness that will ripple across the day. Nevermind that I might be unfocused or uncertain of what is next, for them (and myself) I will make an effort.

Georg’ann

Little bird sings songs of sorrow,
articulating that which we cannot SOLVE,
all attempts have been a WASTE.
In the morning she might be gone.

I RAISE the small brown feather,
stroking it between my thumb and forefinger,
brushing it over my wrist.

A brief PAUSE before my knees buckle
and the heaving sobs begin.
No more CAUSE for suffering,
Our dear wren has taken flight.

Heather

I TRADE the TEMPO of everyday life for the altered pace of vacation, struggling with discomfort at the lack of structure.

Georg’ann

Under the glass table, we both spot them.
The tied shoelaces.
Having lived close enough to the limitations of the body,
we marvel at the white laces
crossed, tucked, looped, pulled
into perfect bows with her FRAIL fingers.

Sipping tea, her eyes moisten but no tear falls.
A shadow of emotion unwilling to fully darken.
Instead she laughs at the ironic QUOTE on the cup.

After several stories we venture to the garden.
She steadies herself hand in mine, fingers woven
as we walk the STONE path in a halting TEMPO.
Her body half mine, my long legs shorten their stride.
This will be our last walk together, the goodbye visit.
I wonder how many more times will she tie her shoes.

Heather