If We Leave The Moon

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If we leave the moon to its hammock
when the wind swings to and fro,
by god, we’ll lull ourselves an evening,
for cold weather is curious work
of hanging all the apples


Photo: gumeys.com


Perhaps August Doesn’t Know

baking a moment dot com

The humidity drowns out flowers,
the gem birds, the jewel songs – gone,
steamed vegetables – still growing,

Perhaps August has forgotten how
we suffer – breathing in the hot rain,
our garments sticking to their battles,

Then there’s a B&B in New Hampshire
that measures the temperature in
steaming cheddar biscuits eaten in A/C,

And at night, there is a down comforter
for each guest, and the hot water bill
goes through the roof every summer.

Perhaps August doesn’t know it’s winter
at Barthe & Bramble B&B, maybe we
just might stay ’til the leaves,

‘Til the first frost, when it’s safe
to come out, maybe we move in, maybe
we make ’em all three dog nights – this
summer’s end, this bubbling peach
cobbler season.


Photo: bakingamoment.com

I Got To Thinking…

rabbits black & white 50

I like that sun showers
don’t require shovels.

I feel better when muffins
have taken up with poppy

Whenever possible, I
invite the moon in.

There are flowers that I
can recite from memory.

I love it when the lawn
engages in rabbits.

I mix apples and oranges
like nobody’s business.

Photo:  Havahart