Wednesday, May 20, 2020


Walking To The Barn

Walking to the barn

in the cold blue twilight

of this wintry day;

the water bucket steaming

to make warm mash for our toothless horse.

The horse is older;

the bucket heavier with the passing years.

We duck beneath the breeze-supple branches

of a young cedar seeking the

open light of the trail.

Its green brushes us as we pass,

Mall stops and whispers,

"To be touched by a tree is a blessing."


Tom Jay
The Blossoms are Ghosts
At the Wedding
Empty Bowl