Not The Rockefellers

The Mill, 1964, by Andrew Wyeth  people speak of winter as if it were an uninvited guest asleep on the couch though he is wont to lazing about i do not mind his company the cats make sport of his snoring he yawns scratches and blusters i make tea and pour over seed catalogs the birds chirp through a flurry of braggadocio they know a swan song when they hear one © 2014-Rene For Magpie Tales

La Jument photograph by Jean Guichard  you are not
 poetry you
 are its side effect you
 are not
 music you 
 are
 my stillness you
  are not
 my savior you
 are my melancholy you
 are not
 timeless you
 are
 now © 2014-Rene

we greet the future armed with comfortable patterns invincible plaids indestructible time-honored, ready to ride ingenuity let the kids all laugh make hobbies of our old ways just leave them alone they always come home 2014-Rene New York at Night-Vivienne Gucwa ( via Magpie Tales)

grey wool red mittens my heart is a cardinal your sleeve a high branch i sing through my storms you plow through your memories our burdens break ice © 2014-Rene For Peggy Never lose hope Wait for diamonds :)