11/30/04

On this date beloved haiku adopted. With this kiss, Kodiak would be 56.  Kindred. Life continues. Stones like stories to be collected.  Memories, of course.  Shared.  

Light

Daybreak.  Ot evening. I turn on two lamps when winter evening arrives. Calms.  Almost candle-like.  Meditative.  I might put the kettle on. Will you stay for tea?  Time of the year to buy an amaryllis or two.   Memories. 

House of poetry

 

only the sign remains.  Memories still standing especially for Nancy.  Both Keane and Wakeman.   

Overlay of memories

Like us, flowers are not singular in nature.  They thrive in community scented by the fragrances of layered memory.  
 

Memories can come as the unexpected

 spill of candy corn when it's months before Halloween.  There's a message here -- all these petite capital "As."   

Getting a handle

on things via a spoon is a fine afternoon activity in a favorite cafe. Pen/paper close by. Memories, too.