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Blue Berry Monday

 Blue Berry Monday

Early morning at the farm

I choose each one with slow deliberation to savor the peacefulness

And notice that they are not quite round as I indulge in one

It tastes like Maine

The sound of a child's laughter as her mother calls

"Come, my love, it's a beautiful day to pick berries"

Somehow those words bring tears that spill into my bucket and I pause to wipe them away

And yet, my heart is full listening as birds exalt in song

There is content among the vines

Yes, it is the perfect day to pick berries.


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Here in Maine sunrise is early this time of year– 5:25 am today. I am grateful that I was up and out early enough this morning to see a spectacular sunrise. These are some words that came to me as I watched the day awakening, while awaiting updates about my father who is in the hospital with possible Covid-19:

I know not what today may bring
of joy or grief, of life or loss,
but this I know and rest my hope upon–
that surely as the sun did rise,
Christ my Lord is risen too,
defeating death, restoring life,
the Son of God, the light of all! 

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Gloria Caviglia
Beautiful words Melissa~ Thinking of you
Friday, 01 May 2020 12:35
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Vanity in the Time of Corona

 For pierced ears only: Vanity in the Time of CoronaVirus

There must be some semblance of decorum

Sheltering in place is no reason to get slovenly.

I shall don a pair of earrings each day during this pause in time

While waiting patiently for the green light

Being able to choose is power in a current world of powerlessness

The gold chevrons with the tiny ball on top and the sharp point at the tip.

He handed them to me one evening, a gift in exchange for that small indiscretion with the hope of make-up sex-

They remind me of him

These hoops, a continuous circle of gold with laser cutting to make them shine.

Not today

Too much history.

Purchased from the home shopping channel lying on the couch with a basin to catch the puke from dry-heaving after each treatment. One could argue buyer's remorse…

Here's a pretty pair. They hang like chandeliers, each aurora borealis glimmers its own personality

My "happy" earrings

Students liked to make them jingle and jangle during lessons

But they're no longer my story.

Ah, the silver encrusted with marcasite and amethyst. Maybe. Each with a tiny gold lotus flower hidden in the center. All mindfulness and Zen. Much too much purpose.

Too many voids left to fill- finding perfect in the sounds of silence

Ears cannot be unadorned during a pandemic

It's too plebian and today calls for bourgeois sensibilities

Choose the diamonds. They attract strength, courage, fortitude.

What the world needs now. 

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Melissa Fischer
I love your detailed descriptions, along with the reasons for choosing for or against each pair of earrings. Funny thing is, I rar... Read More
Thursday, 30 April 2020 14:32
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The Water Strider

The water strider worked his way upstream with effort-filled jerks, then turned and strode gracefully back down, barely dimpling the surface of the water and casting oval-shaped shadows on the streambed with each of his feet. He repeated this endeavor over and over. Once when he neared me, I glanced down to look at him and instead noticed two tiny eyes pointing in my direction… tiny eyes on the end of tiny tentacles under several inches of water.

It took me a moment to determine what the tentacles were attached to, since their snail was covered with algae and was moving very, very slowly, across the algae-coated rock under the water. He was moving so slowly and apparently gently that he wasn't even disturbing the pearl-like bubbles on the rock's surface. I watched, engrossed, over the next several minutes, as the snail moved about a centimeter closer, first sliding his foot a millimeter or two, then pausing before hitching his shell along to catch up with his foot.

I held my cell phone down by the water to take a close-up of the snail to hopefully see him better than I could from my perch on the steeply sloped stone on the bank of the stream. I snapped the photo, then looked at my phone to see the snail…and looked again… There was no snail on the screen on my phone… Instead I saw, a clear, detailed shot of tree branches and green leaves against the blue sky…

I looked again at the stream and there was the snail. Then, with effort, I adjusted my focus and finally saw the reflection from above that I had missed while focusing on the strider on the water and the snail below the water. 

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the river now

two legs
four legs
legs to stand on
legs to talk on
mute except where we meet
at the ground
our ground, we agree

she spins it
with each step
a river of sticks
to stand on
movement always makes
my heart
beat back
I remember
even the frozen
moves at a level

we call it death
when the legs fall down even
the tree kins its knee
no blood here, I can't see it
no blood here, she said
its floating
all around us

the river now
moves on
stone stays
stone pile
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1678 Hits