When will it be time to plant again?

When will it be time to plant again?
When will the risk of frost pass
so seeds can safely shed their coats?
When will the earth be welcoming?

Today the sun is bright.
We all run out to feel its warmth.
Is it time? we wonder, yearning
to see the slender sprouts

elbow the dark aside,
raise their tiny green flags,
and stake their claim.

Elizabeth Steinglass


For  most plants I think the answer to the question is not yet. One exception is apparently lettuce which prefers cooler weather. So that is what we planted last Thursday. I’ve never done this before, but I simply couldn’t wait. I’ll let you know how it goes.

I hope you are all hanging in there and that you and yours are well and safe. I am feeling especially appreciative to have poetry which grounds me and connects me to all of you.

Happy Poetry Friday. Tabatha has the round up at The Opposite of Indifference.



Hello Friends,

I hope you are all finding ways to stay well and find comfort these days. Like everyone I am needing art and community, something in abundance on Poetry Friday and at Spark! For those of you who are unfamiliar Spark is an inspirational art exchange. Visual artists inspire writers and writers inspire visual artists. When I participated a couple of weeks ago. I was matched with Elisabeth Mazzilli, a textile artist who hooks rugs. This immediately made me smile because when I was a kid, my mom went through a serious hooked rug phase. I still have a few of them. Above is the piece Elisabeth sent me. Here is the poem, I wrote in response.


night crossing
fireflies signaling
the moon


I know my details are off. Those are dragonflies, not fireflies and that’s the sun, not the moon, but that’s okay. The inspiration piece is simply meant to inspire a creative response. For some reason, Elisabeth’s piece absolutely compelled me to write haiku. I tried a few approaches to my response piece, and they were all haiku.


Here is the poem I sent Elisabeth for her inspiration.


I collect worries

I collect worries
the way others collect stamps.
I paste them to my skull
without concern for resale value.
At night when others sleep,
I page through them,
remembering where I got them,
how much I paid,
what else was happening at the time.
I savor them,
the way others hold onto places
they will never go.


Here is the piece she made in response over a mere 10 days.



Isn’t it incredible? Look there’s me and my quill and all my worries. I especially love the ribbons of worries and all the little knots.


That’s it for me this week. I look forward to reading your posts and to seeing you here more often.

Sending all good wishes,