I was so lonely when you left
The house was silent as never before
The rain did fall, making it sorrowful
I looked around to see what to do
But I kept thinking of you
Your face is always alight even with no smile
You make our house happy, even if it is always so
You make rainy days bright when I think dully
But now you are away again
And a shadow fell the second your car drove away
I looked around the house as if all was dead
My toe did look dead, because it was loose
I guess it missed you too

I am standing in a forest, but I can’t see the trees for the vines growing around me. Above me, below me, to all sides, the vines grow and block out the smallest glimpse I can have of the trees. The air is hot and stifling, but every now and then a breeze comes through. It smells sweet and flowery, and it lifts my sticky hair off my forehead. It shifts the vines for a second, and for that brief second I see into heaven. The vines close, cutting of the breeze, the forest, and the flowers. But the forest continues to call out to me.

To catch a cold,
to catch a chill:
I needed several things,
and you most certainly also will

You'll need some spider's webs
to make the perfect net
You'll need some bait:
warm cereal, preferably wet

You'll need some gloves,
and a camouflage hat,
so the cold doesn't see you,
or smell you and that

You'll want some cheese and crackers,
and a feather from a bird,
set up your trap, and then
do not say a word

the leaves have caught the sun
and hold it boldly, bravely
and give it, all unwavering
even when it’s gone

the leaves have caught the light
they guard it like a secret
they treasure and they keep it
even through the night

the leaves have caught the glow
and mirroring each other
they paint the whole world over
refuse to let it go

the leaves have caught the sun
and play it ‘neath the blue sky
right back into the bright eye
of the one they caught it from

It started with a simple question....

“Do you knit?” My friend Anne was over for the day and we had been talking pleasantly about books and movies on the floor of my bedroom, when she espied my long-neglected bag of knitting. She of course asked the inevitable.

“Occasionally,” I answered, sighing a little while trying to recall the last time I had actually completed a knitting project. Anne then rummaged through the bag and drew out my largest pair of needles, made of fat, grey plastic.

Would everyone please stop talking
and yammering about the vote?
Stop deciding and analyzing
every word that they've spoke?

Stop telling us who's ahead so far,
and who's starting to fall back,
Stop speaking to us about the polls,
the lines and the signs and all that!

Please, I'm gonna be sick!
I already feel so ill,
each time they say one of their names,
And what state's red or what state is blue
I'm going insane,
from all the campaigns
I'm going insane it's true!

Chapter the Twenty-first

When the grass grows long and thick in the back,
We run through the yard; it before us expands
It becomes a forest, a tangled wilderness
filled with the things that inhabit our dreams
Owls in top hats, falcons and lightning,
the little folk in their tiny wood homes
Wigwams and tree forts, catstles and kings
towers and caves filled with mysteries untold
wizards and horses, the wind that can speak
and tell me all the places it's been,
and all the things it has seen
Brave heroes, cunning villians,

Their sweet yellow faces
as bright as the sun
their stems, thin and graceful
and still everyone

Think they are weeds,
try to chase them off
But if you walk through the woods
You'll find their secret spot

A little green meadow
That's filled with their beauty,
their happiness and joy,
and such wonder that few see

The blossoms, alive
blink and sway in the breeze
Their gladness fills me
and makes me feel free