ARMOR up
Thrust and parry
Throw some SHADE
Isn’t this how we have
A WHALE of a time
Playing paintball??

Georg’ann

Early SHINE, dew on grass
No CHORE to do, Sunday rest
watch a WHALE swim by

Heather

Everyone in the family was gathered to deal with his death. No one has been in this house for decades, our grandfather having preferred solitude and his books to visits from his family. In truth, the air inside was so STALE, that I felt I had to get out. When I BROKE free of the stifling house, I felt so much better. I was certain that this atmosphere would ERODE my ability to think, perhaps forever. Walking around the grounds pensive and preoccupied, I found myself in the area we called Diana’s GROVE. I settled on the ground, releasing myself to the ground. As I stretched out, PRONE, I relaxed to the point that I felt myself starting to drift into the delicious state before dozing. A sharp sound, like a stick breaking, loud and nearby – I both startled and FROZE. Heart pounding, I jumped up, not wanting to be caught vulnerable, on the ground, no matter the source of the sound.

Georg’ann

BEGIN each day with a feel good QUOTE
then move to wordplay, where the SCORE
doesn’t really matter, it’s not the point.
What DROVE me here was you.
My own amusement not always sufficient
enough to sustain daily practices so steadily.
Yes, I start each day searching for 5 letter words
like FROZE with some bit of prose to follow
Knowing it’s not wordplay so much
as full ranging love and life play
that is tapped out in these little boxes.

Heather

Speeding down OCEAN DRIVE in the little red Miata sports car, the wind whips our words as well as our hair. Holding on to my hat with one hand, continuing the conversation, shouting, “we asked them to REFER us” You glance at me, puzzled, “you asked them for a reefer?” “What? No! We asked for a referral!” Well, that of course struck us as funny, and cackling and hooting, we continued down the seaside road. So engrossed were we, that we missed the sight of the FLYER we needed to find the party drifting up and out of the car.

Georg’ann

From the CRAFT fair, this
homage hangs in our FOYER
FLYER unfurls truth

Heather

Do me a FAVOR
Would you,
Could you,
Please?
THROW me a bone
Sweep away my fears
With a BROOM
Tell me that 
You love 
Me
Lift my sadness
Eliminate the
DROOP in my 
Step
Give us a hug
A kiss
Right
Now 

Georg’ann

In almost every scene Chloe wore a gorgeous, albeit HEFTY, wool CLOAK. She admired the clasp fashioned out of an ornate silver SPOON, a single bit of shimmering metal that held the dark material securely even as her shoulders began to DROOP toward the end of each day’s shoot.

Heather

Washing up in the sink and slightly mesmerized by the suds and the swirl of water down the DRAIN, I have a moment of TOTAL panic. Am I ABOUT to lose Aunt Martha’s bracelet? Was that the clasp giving way? I pull my hands out, sloshing water and suds onto the floor. Sweet relief: the bracelet is intact, each small TOPAZ colored bead still strung on the gold chain

Georg’ann

Searching head to toe
for signs of HEART failing
Noting the swollen feet, labored breath, fatigue
most haunting the PASTY pallor.
We watch birds, ADOPT new ways of being
continue to light candles
leave flowers and TOPAZ
at the foot of the golden Buddha

Heather

Lay CLAIM to the moon
COVER your hair with stars
Dance in the fields
Fear not the years
Be the CRONE

Georg’ann

Alone in the CROWD
holding a CROCK of green beans
CRONE has sorrow eyes

Heather

What a DREAM: a SEEDY bagel, a cup of a good coffee BLEND, and to UPEND all expectations, a breakfast companion who has been a FIEND, now turned dear friend

Georg’ann

No amount of SPICE could have salvaged
the stale mushrooms,
fried in old oil, tasting like fish
how long had they been sitting
no crema, no fresh veg
brown nuggets on greasy tortillas
sprinkled with corn kernels and a few strands of wilted cabbage.
So hungry and TIRED
We stared into space, no energy
to converse, not even to complain
A small street bird did delight
unsteadily flying from an uncleared table
with a chip as big as himself.
Impressive to watch him WEILD such bounty,
pecking tiny bits once he landed
by the sandwich board
listing the summer cocktails.
You ordered the peachy rabbit
I went for the Flame of the FIEND

Heather

More than just about anywhere else, I find a sense of PEACE in Paris. It is something more than the obvious reasons, the things that make everyone ADORE the city. For me, it is the river. It looms LARGE in my experience of the city: a constant reference point, a meditative space, a source of wonder, a place to feel the passage of time. I could stand forever on a bridge and charmed by a BARGE moving slowly along.

Georg’ann

Sitting in a line, in a narrow boat on open water.
Confined to this small SPACE,
with a man who exudes hostility.
Learning to move together,
Gracefully following a lead.

Ironic that he’d been my tango teacher,
until his anger drove me away. Now he’s here to help us crew.

Class ends, everyone leaves
my friend and I stay behind,
strip to our skivvies, enter with a splash
We BATHE in the final sparkles of sunlight,
on a beach belonging to a scout camp.
What BADGE might we have we earned
for our all our efforts here?
While more BARGE than scull
Halting, clunky, intermittent flow, in sync
pace set by the tiniest of us.
Even the angry man, always in charge
had to follow, as we moved with delight.

Heather

AWARE and feeling the
Weight of my WORRY
Toes dig into the sand
Soak up the sun
The sea spray
The gulls’ calling
All my worries flow
Off my body
From my brain
Into the WHIRL of
Ocean waves
At my feet

Georg’ann

In my dream I climbed a ladder
all the way to the sky
to carve a peace dove
into a billowy CLOUD.
Wearing a LARGE tool belt
over a skirt voluminous,
layer upon layer of FRILL
a skirt made to SWIRL
the emotions of the wearer,
She who is the steady axis
that sets movement in motion
with a decisive WHIRL.
She who can reach the sky
on a delicate set of rungs
carrying all she needs
to shape her intention

Heather

I walked ABOUT the land, feeling the stress drop off me. It felt good to be back, among the pine trees and hills. I STARE out across the property. I would love to figure out how to TREAD lightly, to build the home I need and plan a garden. Maybe LATER, when I get a bit settled, I can finally learn what permaculture is and see if I can do it. This place is so precious to me, and it feels good to come home, to the red clay EARTH of my childhood.

Georg’ann

A PLAIN bagel, lightly toasted
spread with lots of butter
is where my mind keeps arriving.
even in waiting to be more fully AWAKE
there is no alternative flow of words,
all GREAT thoughts are on reserve.
I’m not even much of a bagel person,
yet I CATER to what is, no striving
to write eloquently of things that matter,
like how few days you have left on EARTH

Heather

Oh do not MOURN
The random words
The words most absurd
Celebrate the JOIST,
Sturdy and strong
Cheer the WOOLY beast,
And bring him along
Serendipity, yes
FOLLY, perhaps
Opportunity, most definitely.

Georg’ann

He twirled and twitched,
as if he were a bird of paradise
preparing for the mating ritual
a large bobbling sort of CREST
attached to his typically BLANK head, bald as it were.
It’d been years since we’d been quite so JOLLY.
With bright pink cheeks
and gingham pinafore
I became the quintessential DOLLY
We laughed ourselves to tears,
catching our breath only to start again.
Oh gosh, oh GOLLY
So long a time had passed
without silliness,
We’d nearly forgotten FOLLY

Heather

We will SHARE
You and I forever
The WRECK
Of our endeavor
That sweet time when
Our love did REIGN
We can NEVER ENTER
Again

Georg’ann

Under the golden lights,
woven through the trees,
We laid out the table,
a white linen SHEET
over plywood, jars of flowers
summer bounty everywhere.
the METER of fireflies twinkling
in the dusk matches my breath
Friends ENTER through the jasmine covered arbor,
as effervescent as the bubbles rising
from a sugar cube in champagne.
ah, such sweetness here tonight.

Heather

It is an IMAGE I don’t want. We are moments away from when the ceremony is to start – the priest on his way to BLESS this, our TENTH grandchild and the special basin has cracked and broken. How will I fix this? Is it sacrilege to find the right EPOXY glue to repair a sacred object? Will eagle-eyed relatives and well-wishers discover the flaw? We have family who are technical whizzes, one who is a CODER for secret government offices, so secret I do not understand what they do or why they do it. But, sometimes attention to detail in one area creates the illusion of keen observation in all areas. Let us do our best to COVER the cracks and flaws. We have no reason to COWER or apologize for our imperfections.

Georg’ann

Ready for a BREAK
in all the ways that plays:
Break out
Break open
Break down
Break apart
Break the mold
Break in the case
Break in the weather
Break in the patterns
TIRED, or perhaps lulled
This distinct moment is
SUPER under the COVER
More rain falling
More winds blowing
Thunder booming
Movement all around
Yet all is still and quiet
Inside, sirens haven’t begun
To rest is not to COWER

Heather

We were settled in for the evening, I flopped in a chair. “Sheesh – what a day.” Harry passed me a PLATE, saying “I TRUST it worked out finding a body double for that scene.” I nodded. “Ooh, nice spread. Thanks, darling. How much do you think I can eat have and still fit into my costume for tomorrow’s shoot?” Refocusing on his question, I replied in between bites, “Look Harry I can skate well enough, but there is no way in hell I can do a QUINT.” He looked at me blankly. “You know, the leap and spin around five times kind of skating. God knows why I agreed to be in a film about an Olympic skater.” He shrugging, asked, “As long as you are doing this, do I get to see the UNCUT thing, whatchamacallit, the rushes?” “Maybe. If you bring some pastries over in the morning that would give you an excuse to hang around for a minute and find out. The director loves a good DONUT, by the way.”
Harry smiled a little uncertainly, unsure if it was the director or me that to be bribed with a donut.

Georg’ann

There’s no need to SHARE
Enjoy fully without DOUBT
This DONUT – all yours!

Heather

As a child, I loved to DANCE outside on a WINDY day – lush grass beneath my bare feet, my hair whipping around in the wind.

Georg’ann

Standing at the counter chopping
Bountiful colors, so many vegetables
beets STAIN my fingers
in one of my favorite hues
A pile of herbs to MINCE,
The kitchen smells fresh, earthy.
the VINYL floor covered in bouncing rainbows
from window hanging prisms
I can imagine myself an elderly NINNY
Puttering in a great straw hat
Will my hair fly in wisps below,
Or be kept carefully contained?
These silly thoughts entertain
as I move the knife up and down,
occasionally looking out at the WINDY day.

Heather

Paddling ROUND the bend, it felt like we had FLOWN! It was exciting to be surrounded by the NOISE of the rushing waters. I knew that I would ENJOY this CANOE
trip and was really pleased that I had ignored the attempts to keep me from going. I simply couldn’t understand the VENOM coming from my sister. I did want to figure it out, but right now, I would just enjoy the moment.

Georg’ann

The STORM, for us, was enthralling. Bright flashes, dancing trees, cleansing rains.
Our fortune was not received
without noting the damage to others. 
To experience joy with the awareness of suffering, 
this is the AXIOM by which we livethe only way we can, in fact
Ensuring we are inoculated against VENOM. 
Vipers all around yet still the orchids bloom 

Heather

I had a DREAM —
It is midnight
A cemetery
I am leaning
To BRACE myself
Against the cool stone
Of a GRAVE,
Mists rising around
Eerie sounds
A chittering
A chattering
I step forward to see
Ghosts PRATE idly
Around a tomb
As if around a table
A game in progress
I creep towards
The creepy scene
Peering through a GRATE
When as one
They turn
Towards me – IRATE
That I would dare
To disturb their game
Of bones

Georg’ann

A stone HEART in a small CRATE
arrived today.
It was packed with such care.
Opening it, oh how the sound of styrofoam did GRATE.
It was meant as an apology,
in response to a recent exchange
in which he chose to ORATE
rather than converse.
I was IRATE at being silenced.
This heart in squeaky styrofoam encapsulates
the full arc of our relationship

Heather

G’a:
We checked in, AWARE that there had been a THIEF recently at the HOTEL. In fact, that was one of the reasons we chose that particular place to stay. You see, Johnny has always fancied a chance to be clever and sly, to do something… unusual. And, well, the opportunity to catch the person who had been robbing wealthy guests at the Ritz – that was too tempting to Johnny. Me? I was a long for the ride… And I was to be the bait. I know it is hard to comprehend, but Johnny and me? Let’s just say that we got a kick out of danger.

Georg’ann

There’s a shipping yard
in the MOUTH of the bay
From our window we watch cranes
HOIST cargo onto ships
Night falls, from our HOTEL window
the moon reflected on the water

Heather

Stepping towards the body, Detective O’Brien asks if the victim was ALIVE when thrown into the river. I had had very little SLEEP, and was braced for a questioning of my competence. The Detective has opinions about women handling dead bodies, and my years of experience (not to mention the locations) did little to wipe the sneer off his face. Reminding myself that I would gain nothing from returning hostility with hostility, I straightened up and motioned him to a quieter spot. “Yes, Detective, the victim shows signs that they were dead before entering the water. We should have a full toxicology report to compare with the other victims.” He nodded, accepting for once, that I knew what I was doing.

My mind started to drift. I was so tired I could hardly stand. We were behind an apartment building, and the sounds of someone’s television floated down to us. Sounded like a comedian, profane by the frequency of the BLEEP erasing offensive language. I caught myself staring at nothing in particular, almost missing what the Detective was saying. I knew that no words could be as obscene as the violence we stood beside.

Georg’ann

Sitting in a small robin’s egg blue chair, lower legs splayed right and left
from knees resting together
trying to fit at a child’s desk
as conversations muffle through the walls.
I have access to a lovely workspace,
sophisticated with right sized furniture,
yet often I prefer being here
closer to the GROUP, perhaps
or more likely the way this interior room holds a fuller spectrum of my development
starting with the sense of security that comes from being in spaces just a bit too small
Mindlessly moving fingers across my SCALP
searching for sensation
as I listen to words from next door getting louder
and more distinct,
some I’d like to BLEEP,
These distinct intonations, mark time here
It must be Thursday coming to its close
I smile in recognition of the rhythms created by faceless strangers,
known to me only as names and story fragments
in this place I opened

Heather

I doodle idly in the margins, reading over what I WROTE. Considering a word choice, a nuance here, now there. Stopping to focus on the feel of my pen, I TWIRL it between my fingers. I go through my thoughts, like shuffling through STRAW on the barn floor, watching dust motes and chaff float and dance in the sunlight.

Georg’ann

My daily alarm is the movement of a cat
from behind my legs,
where she has slept uncovered
a paw pats repeatedly
at the blankets, a request for entry
In a dreamy state I lift them and in she goes.
I ADORE the warm softness as she circles and settles
into the curve of my torso
her motor running loudly.
Eventually she pokes her head out,
jumps down with a thump
then I reach for the phone to begin
the day’s word play
Previous attempts line up on a GRAPH
each one a marker of connections
this game has set in motion
Like STRAW spun into gold

Heather

At the FEAST, I was shocked to see there, PRONE on the floor, ruefully rubbing his head, ROBED in a peculiar outfit, was my father. “What on earth happened here?” I had trouble getting a clear answer from anyone. It appeared that he had tried to out-swagger the local RODEO star. “Oh Dad, when will you ever learn?” Shaking my head sadly, I braced myself for what kind of situation – medical? social? – I was now facing.

Georg’ann

Let our VOICE be strong,
We can shift POWER
Refuse TOKEN gestures
It’s not our first RODEO

Heather

They who POUND the table and demand, gain little though they think themselves GRAND

Georg’ann

Walking on the BEACH
PLANT my feet into the sand
Warmth feels GRAND on soles

Heather

A bright summer day seems a strange time to anticipate how I will MOURN the loss of you. I know not how or if that day will come, I just know it will defy all LOGIC and engender confusion, deep inside me. I imagine that I will weep over your SOCKS, the very ones that made you oh so miserable. That our carefully CODED and curated grocery list on the fridge will unleash cascading waves of emotion. That every item that caused tension between us will become without fail the source of a deep longing, proof positive that walking towards tension is to walk in relationship. My future self, my self without you (should it come – in truth, though, the alternative is also painful to contemplate) will COVET this very summer morning. I will fill with angry envy over the when we sat, tension-filled — I, grumpy with you, over what now seems a trifle.

Georg’ann

When I returned home he was eating
a warmed cinnamon roll swimming
in imposter maple SYRUP
left over from the morning
the final bite that holds the day like bookends
It started early, a CHAIN
of events set in motion even before
delicious dark coffee had been poured
today served with no sprinkle
of cinnamon, dash of cardamom or hint of CLOVE
at this late hour, I COVET
clean sheets, the weight of my comforter, a few pages of a mediocre novel
I put myself and this day to rest

Heather

I COULD SHARE…
And then it wouldn’t feel like a WASTE
The clothes that no longer fit my waist
But some seem brittle as old PASTE
Some in need of a stitch or a BASTE
More than a few not to anyone’s TASTE
Stuff in a bag,
What a drag.

Georg’ann

To what would I give VOICE?
Is there nothing left to SHARE?
Childhood scraps held with PASTE
Memories perhaps going to WASTE
Faded fabric, colorful floss used to BASTE
These tender things are out of TASTE
Stored in musty boxes taking up space
The future no longer wants to hold
onto the past

Heather

Beams of sunlight SHINE upon the lake, making sparkling pools of light. I stand ALONE, and yet not: a CRANE provides welcome companionship

Georg’ann

It’s wise to ask a FAVOR
when at the point of a BREAK,
to move this CRATE,
we’ll surely need a CRANE.

Heather

She had to LEARN how to ignore the CROWD. The pressure was on, more than usual. The last game she had allowed the taunts and jeers to distract her. God, how they echoed in the gym and got under her skin.
But her coach wanted PROOF that she wasn’t some weak FROSH, that she could handle the pressure. She glanced at her watch – she had some time to kill before she had to be at the gym and suit up. She was ready to go, why not take a walk? Throwing on her coat, she grabbed a hat and scarf. Stepping out and feeling the cold air was a good jolt to her body. It always cleared her head to move – part of why she loved playing basketball so much. Settling into a brisk pace, she started walking, hearing the crunch of her boots on the grass rimmed with FROST, beginning to whistle a cheery tune. Her spirits lifted, “I’ve got this,” she thought

Georg’ann

In the chilly twilight, costumed children
zig zag across the dark street
going door to door asking for sweets
we wait on the porch, chatting
A PAUSE in the parade
allows a moment to enjoy MOIST apple cake
with warm caramel sauce.
Up through the decorations comes a GHOST
threatening tricks if no treats.
The bustling neighborhood will soon quiet,
FROST will sparkle in the morning light
signaling new seasons to come.

Heather

Dear Mom, just the other day, we were fooling around while painting the new room. I still LAUGH when I think about it. I had just opened a new PAINT can. As you know, we have been working on this room for what feels like days. The color that you RAVED about? You were right to encourage us to choose it, but still we are getting tired of the process. To keep our morale up, we put on the Barber of Seville, cranking up the BASSO profundo aria, adding our voices to the repeated ‘Figaro’ parts. We got carried away and possessed by who knows what WACKO impulse Jen grabbed a KAZOO and started dancing around. She almost stepped in that newly opened full can of paint. It would have been ‘sugar plum’ everywhere, and while I like it, that would have been a bit much. Give my love to Dad and I will send pictures soon. Your loving daughter, Sal.

Georg’ann

At this PHASE of life,
we’ve more than met our QUOTA
each medical appointment begets 3 more
X-rays and labs AGLOW
on the computer screen
highlighting problems vividly
while doctors show fascination, care,
or indifference
we return to the MANOR,
stroll the gardens
play the KAZOO
what else is there to do?

Heather

A BLADE of grass bends
A WHIRL of insects rising up
SHYLY, a rabbit appears

Georg’ann

This THING I once enjoyed has become a CHORE,
it’s not clear when it happened
Yet it is apparent if I continue,
it SHALL deplete me completely
It’s not easy to admit, I fear
disappointing myself,
and you as well
SHYLY, I ask to be released

Heather

It could have been a fiasco: they promised each other that they would meet for the LUNAR eclipse. Not only foiled by the RAINY weather, she also lost her way while trying to get to their fancy rooms at the RANCH. Thankfully, her beloved had gotten there ahead of time and had a late supper waiting for her. She arrived soggy, but relieved.

Georg’ann

Inside the pub garden old friends gather,
catching up on lives while they DRINK
a cocktail called ‘the BARON and the barmaid’
an epicurean mix of rhubarb, raspberry, lemon, absinthe and gin.
Sated with laughter, conversation, fresh air
all leave feeling SANER
As they head back towards the RANCH

Heather

‘Tis us I ADORE
In our PRIME
Unafraid of GRIME
It’s not a CRIME
Together, we soar

Georg’ann

There’s a box of SLATE in the basement
These rich grey layered squares,
with their purple and copper sheen,
have moved from house to house to house
Quite a CHORE to carry, heavy
There was a specific project,
for the little yellow cottage
our first home after divorce
I was drawn to the warm shimmer of color reflected
across the dark stone when it caught the light
no CRIME in holding onto metaphor year after year
Possibilities more precious than any particular project
Meanings vary, as do the pieces waiting patiently
raw form, emerging form
Beautiful just as they are

Heather

It’s a NOISY restaurant, but out of the cacophony emerges a little voice, singing a RHYME. I look up from my omelette and spy the source of the sweetness: a little one, swinging chubby legs, singing as the adults chatter around her. Almost like a beam of light in darkness, her innocent joy lifts my heart. I return to my solitary breakfast, a little less lonely. MAYBE today will be okay after all.

Georg’ann

It’s RAINY in the BAYOU
MAYBE it’s time to bid adieu

Heather