after a poem by Ono no Komachi too soon the bloom has slipped from the stem - a light lost over the deepening sill of evening and back and forth, the beads are slipped slowly down the thread while I wait with the rain


that absence hangs around, a lone note held - b-flat drifting long after the tables have emptied a blind man would have known to find a way away from you but fire makes us stupid and before this space was vacant it. was. on. fire. things are so much clearer when seen in d minor … Continue reading 2.20.2015


I was the kid who was forever bringing home strays or baby birds. Some I'd thrust upon neighbors (apparently I was hard to resist), some would hang around, and some unfortunately wouldn't make it. I stopped doing this when I hit about 12 years old. But then in high school, my friend called me with … Continue reading 2.9.2015

holding on

listing off on my walk the names of the trees whose leaves are holding on just a little too long - what was golden now giving way to brown, tattered things that cling complaining in the wind there is an art, I think, to holding on, to letting go - and an impatience for things … Continue reading holding on

November chickadees

November chill rusts the dogwood, scatters the locust seeds down the sodden street the maple this year shows an unusual reluctance for red but today gray was made a near beautiful thing - a frame for the darker darts of the chickadees in the yellow goodbye of the chestnut tree © Sarah Whiteley

fire and wings

It's not unusual for us to see Anna's hummingbirds through the winter and several neighbors keep their hummingbird feeders up for them. So while many birds are feeling the pull of migration currently, I'm blessed to live in an area where we'll have these little scraps of winged sunshine still with us in the colder … Continue reading fire and wings