Autumn Nights

Chorus of crickets harmonizing as a soft breeze

combs the trees,

branches gently swaying...

Harvest moon winking at me through filmy clouds 

in the autumn sky,

a familiar face.

Memories flood back. I close my eyes recalling

games of hide 'n seek

with childhood friends...

Running, tripping in the dark through yards,

over rock and bushes

to touch Home Base.

Autumn's cool breath mixing with summer's

waning warmth beckons me

to stay and listen...

But turning a deaf ear to go inside and close

the door and miss

the chance to rest.

Tonight I pray Old Man Moon and cricket friends

resume their autumn play

for an audience of one...

Sitting in my Adirondack chair, head back,

absorbing the sight and sounds

of nature's best.

Skeletons in the Closet

October brings a dramatic change in the weather; the air chills, trees begin their shift from soft and vibrant greens to yellows, brown, red, and orange, and the sun sets earlier. As an adult I miss the nice warm days, but as a child I was more excited that Halloween was just around the corner. In keeping with the spirit of Halloween, this year I received some information about a deceased relative, news that surprised and saddened me: a true skeleton in the closet.

My mother's cousin is our family historian and genealogy expert. I am the writer of our group and often use her findings for short stories or character types. However, with her recently discovered facts, I'm not sure how, when, or where to use it. Growing up I idolized this person and admired him for his strength, skill at overcoming adversities, and for his myriad accomplishments. I still do, but realize he was only human and made some serious errors in judgement, not earth shattering ones, but mistakes all the same.

On the tenth anniversary of my mother's death, I wrote a short story about the days immediately following her passing. It was cathartic, and helped me to understand Mother, myself, and our fractured relationship. In the story, I revealed our family tree included a Salem, Massachusettes' witch who was hanged during the trials. Her inclusion was appropriate and enhanced the mood of the scene by adding punch to the subject of death. I do believe in the unusual, the supernatural, the unexplained, the things that make your skin crawl and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

So I will include some of our family's flawed characteristics and a sampling of their unexplainable actions in future short stories. Truth is stranger than fiction.

Stay tuned... 

Update: I did include some of the above subjects in my novel, Between Heartbeats, which was released in August 2015

Ode to Fall

Creatures of the Night

As night falls, I hurry home

switch on lights, close doors
to the cold night air
and imagine the Boogey Man
outside, in the dark,
ready to pounce.

Sundown comes
filmy clouds drift
across the blackened canvas
to kiss the star-dappled sky
painted purposefully, perfectly
by One more skilled than any mortal.

On velvet pads

nightlife crawls over wet grasses,
along woody branch,
through their realm
unseen by man
one hundred times as large.

Why fear what is hidden?
Nocturnal life lives in twilight.
Where I stumble, predators are agile.
Cats fleet of foot, owls dive with
unblinking amber eyes opened wide;
they survive another day.

Invisible world could teach me to trust,
to open windows and doors,
tiptoe outside, breathe night air,
creep over damp soil,
look under leafy screens,
meet creatures one thousand times as small.

To appreciate lesser inhabitants

may be contrary to human logic,
but to embrace the universal plan
set in motion purposefully, perfectly
by Him eons ago
is worth the endeavor.