Praying with Fringes 02/11/2016 – Lie to me, sweet garden-mongers

Winter Promises Marge Piercy Tomatoes rosy as perfect baby’s buttocks, eggplants glossy as waxed fenders, purple neon flawless glistening peppers, pole beans fecund and fast growing as Jack’s Viagra-sped stalk, big as truck tire zinnias that mildew will never wilt, roses weighing down a bush never touched by black spot, brave little fruit trees shouldering … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 02/11/2016 – Lie to me, sweet garden-mongers

Praying with Fringes 02/10/2016 – smallest brown boat on the immense tide

February: Thinking of Flowers Jane Kenyon Now wind torments the field, turning the white surface back on itself, back and back on itself, like an animal licking a wound. Nothing but white—the air, the light; only one brown milkweed pod bobbing in the gully, smallest brown boat on the immense tide. A single green sprouting … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 02/10/2016 – smallest brown boat on the immense tide

Praying with Fringes 02/03/16 – there are comings and goings from miles away

Ask Me William Stafford Sometime when the river is ice ask me mistakes I have made. Ask me whether what I have done is my life. Others have come in their slow way into my thought, and some have tried to help or to hurt: ask me what difference their strongest love or hate has … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 02/03/16 – there are comings and goings from miles away

Praying with Fringes 1/26/2015 – the snow in great sheets across the yard

The Slate Grey Junco Barbara Crooker with his immaculate bib, sooty jacket, bobs in the snow for sunflower seeds. Caught between two needs, hunger and shelter, he keeps coming back, even as the arctic wind which has howled all day shuttles him like the cock in a badminton game, wind that rattles the windows, shakes … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 1/26/2015 – the snow in great sheets across the yard