Writing Out Loud


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During the day

it sits on the counter next to the bowl

of rising dough or the jar of blackberry jam

pretending at being just another ingredient

to leaven my days, sweeten them.

And then at night when

I’ve taken a handful of it and tossed it

up into the dim air of my room

where it splits into a million atoms

sprinkling my sleep with possibilities

fairy dust shards of reflected moon and starlight,

I awake straining toward someone

in a dream who wasn’t really there

lips ajar arms

outstretched in supplication.

I sink then back into pillow shadows

my body relaxing against my will.

Today it will sit near a batch of cookies

and a bowl of lemons

a respite then

and only then.

But tonight

to the sound of wind in the trees

oh what shapes it will take again

behind closed eyes

and in dreams…


Just Stars

…silent winter night snow
cape on the shoulders of trees
and outcroppings tracks of whatever
creatures weaving in and out between the shadows
no moon to light their way tonight
just stars straining to make an impression
leave a mark
grant a wish


Putting By

without jar or kettle

nature preserves


vinegar spice

or rubber ring

she puts by




songs of bird


hushes of cloud

jeweled webs


touches of rain


laps of waves


silences of snow

her shelves full



for my soul’s

leaner times



Steep is the way to the lookout,

the path worn and spare

to the place that is all sky.

Tiny flowers bloom modestly

between rocks as old

as time itself, as sure.

Birds climb and dip and climb again,

clouds gather at my feet

opaque and full of secrets.

People move beneath them

swirling in a dream wind

silent as snowflakes.

They pass me on the path

acting like they know me

like we all belong.

Perhaps we do in this place

made mostly of sky

and not much else.



Author: raelove1950

I've been writing personally and professionally for over 40 years, and recently started writing books for Amazon Kindle. During the last 25 years, I have also written for the Journal Tribune in Biddeford, Maine; the Maine Sunday Telegram in Portland, Maine; Current Publishing in Westbrook, Maine; and the Reporter, a weekly newspaper based in Waterboro, Maine. I recently released a book entitled "From the Urban Wilderness: Life in the Southern Maine Woods," which is a collection of essays taken from a weekly column I wrote for the Journal Tribune from 2010 to 2016. It is available from Amazon.com and CreateSpaceStore.com .

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