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Wings and fog ferry

Wings

I try out
for a solo
singing

my director
is pleased
I am growing

she says
I am beautiful

she says
I look like a different person

she knows
a little of what I have weathered

 
my patient
is 86

and her husband died
in December

she misses him so

as she comes into the room
one day

she says
you look as if you have wings
and are ready to take off

and I freeze
for a moment

in surprise

that she can see
my wings.

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Lion’s mane

This is for photrablogger’s Mundane Monday #81, a Lion’s mane mushroom from up in the Olympic Mountains, taken with my cell phone.

I hiked with a friend. I am not good enough at identifying many mushrooms to pick them on my own, so I go with him. We saw at least 30 varieties most of which we left alone…. when in doubt, don’t touch.

We went out Saturday and Sunday. It rained most of the day on Saturday. I was dressed warmly enough but was very wet. Sunday it rained less and I dressed more appropriately and stayed dry…

Delicious sauteed until brown…

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Tree boat

A friend wrote a tune to my poem Tree boat.

 

Build me a boat to float in a tree
A boat of dreams and play there with me
Float in the sky in the leaves so green
Our hands together shaping a dream

Build me a boat to heal our wounds
Scarred hearts and muscles play out of tune
The world is fearsome, hold me soon
From the tree we watch the rising moon

Build me a boat to carry us far
A moon sextant to chart where we are
To Betelgeuse or another star
We are home wherever we are

Build me a boat to float in a tree
Or a lake or a stream or an ocean all three
I dream of a boat with joins so tight
Holding us safe to sleep all night

Build me a boat smooth and slow
The plans alone could take years you know
Smooth each plank with a hand plane slow
And tell me you love me soft and low

Written November 2015. I took the photograph one evening after chorus when the clouds looked like a Maxfield Parish painting….like a dream.