the winter roost

the crows come again, perch within the remnants of summer - turned to rust and rue; they've come again with their own narrative, their inscrutable truths - strike their own lines against November's sky, while we try blindly (futile) to navigate stolen darknesses; fixed, and non-migratory - roosting in huddled groups for the long and … Continue reading the winter roost

I am becoming…

I am becoming the color of fall when it stoops to November, russet when it succumbs to gray in quiet, unnoticed ways until suddenly the briar leans bare against the fence bleak, wild and forgettable © Sarah Whiteley

reluctance

seems every corner these days, yellow reluctance hangs from the trees but can you maybe see the small promise in the perchance-forgetfulness of coming wintry rimes where we might biding sleep 'til wakened by warmer times © Sarah Whiteley

1.10.2015

This damp January morning has drained the color from the sky and all it touches - everything is a shade of sidewalk. All but the unexpected pink of the sand cherry, which bursts out to laugh at the gray as I walk by. It seems that even trees can tease.

A Word of Cheer

“A little smile, a word of cheer, A bit of love from someone near, A little gift from one held dear, Best wishes for the coming year. These make a merry christmas!” --John Greenleaf Whittier Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Blessed Season of Light to all my followers, readers, fellow writers and artists and keepers of … Continue reading A Word of Cheer

the uninvited

for once my crows (my noisome watchers) ignore the shrill complaints of a wheeling gull and crouch instead on snow-tipped branches, giving way to the whims of a relentless wind I'd invite them in (my boot-blacked friends) but they'd tease the dogs, pluck my bright beads from the lighted tree and delightedly unwind every blessed … Continue reading the uninvited

down east

it was late November when I drove toward Maine I still hear how the wind tore across the highway, rattling doors and nearly blowing that tired red Buick into the frozen ditch I had second, third - hell sixth thoughts on the other side of the state line, but I kept right on - forward … Continue reading down east