Below is the poem (“Wind-Blown”) from the new book that demonstrates Steve’s and my positives inspite of the difficultiess we deal with.
In our new yard on the hill under the low-
branched dogwood tree, our new house
behind us, we nestle on a spread of white—
as a May morning, Scattered petals rise
with gusts like excited balloons looking
to escape their owners. We admire gossiping
crows and their soldier-like, burnished wings.
Today we will not wake in the old house,
narrow and tall. Under sky’s canopy, habits
unmoor, stilted rituals dissipate. There will
always be street lamp’s glimmer as we turn
toward home, always music quivering the air,
always a yard full of wind-blown blossoms.
© Marie Kane, 2017