in the trees

standing in the trees i could hear faintly from up the hill
the managerie. my hands stained from the freshly picked
bleuberries maybe our lips too. can i take a picture of you 
yes, i said standing nervously. i will delete it i whispered to myself
handing me the camera, there in the walnut and grey birch trees
there was a glimpse of something as if the sand in the hour glass
that was once me still lingered. so this is me in the trees, on the hill at

home.

my fingers have unfolded
slipping through yours, falling
to my side.

cold in my bones

i sit nearer and nearer to the fire both feeding the flames with wood and edging myself closer.

i am cold, bones feel aches and air seems to have pierced through my skin. the rain is falling and hard, fog comes up the hill and back again. a quiet voice from the radio sings words that have me stop what i am doing, what am i doing.

the stack of books some open and others gathering dust, cats claim their hot spots as dogs growl at the air.

half a cup of tumeric & ginger concotion makes the inside of my cup look like art but it is the cup with ice and espresso that is making it to my lips.

there no heat from the sun but there is still warmth around me and even though cold travels and mingles with my flesh and bones, i have still manage to feel a flame of desire..

the air in the forest

the air is so mild it feels as if it came in from a place i long to go. walking through
the forest with  my sweater wrapped around me. trees swaying making sounds i could fall asleep to, maybe there against the moss covered rock i could lay my head and curl up like i belonged there. looking up i spotted a black furry creatures a fisher cat,  i had always been scared of them for i would hear them in the middle of the night at my farm in rhode island but i am not scared here among the trees, it is sleeping like i would sleep if i was a creature of this forest.

i miss her

sometimes memories come when you least expect them.
today  i thought about  my grandmother, how i wish to be back
in the days where i thought everyone i loved was immortal. my thoughts
carried me to a time where she would ask me how i was doing, i thought
about when she would say j ai envie de quelques chose de bon.( i crave something good) me too, me too. i am not sure how i would answer the question now, i hardly remember if back then
i would say the truth or just bits of it. today i would  be too honest,  and that would make
no one happy. i miss that time for so many reasons, but most of all her.

snow

he said i had a dream about you

what was the dream about she asked

he said you were shovelling snow, you were just a little girl

in a flannel night gown and you were scooping up the snow with the shovel and i was the snow....

somebody

i was going to be somebody i just can't remember who:)

human trafficking

Human trafficking is higher than

the drug trade

the gun trade

in america

that is hell of a lot of people looking the other way from child sexual abuse.

that is a hell of a lot of city, state, federal officials NOT DOING THEIR JOB!