Reverse Negative

Reverse Negative

In photography, a reverse negative is a print of the negative image

where once was light- now darkness where there is dark, it glows

                    ***

I have moments in the shadows

seconds in the sunlight

there are epochs when daylight seems a darker shade

of night…

blue satin sky

inky velvet night

now this

my sixth decade

you find me find me balancing-

teetering

on

a golden gossamer thread

between life

and

eventual demise…

When I was 11

We visited my father’s favorite great aunt, Della

She of ample bosom fallen to waist line

still, much adored…

she, of faded, yellowed hair

she,

who loved my dark, dark auburn hair…

In the mirror of her life

She saw the past reside in the freckled

face of an 11 year old me

 

I screeched

then ran down the steps from that wonderful wide

Wraparound porch

to the tool shed behind her garden

where squash and okra grew.

I sobbed.

Several lifetimes later,

While looking in old family

photo album as a child, my precious, favorite nephew picked

“me” out in a picture and wondered why

I was wearing those old timey clothes…

It was she,

not me in the photograph.

My now nearly 40 year old eyes

acknowledged what Aunt Dell saw in me

at eleven.

 

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Spring Approximately

        Today, the Ides of March!

I wonder what  Caesar was feeling when he

awakened on this fateful day

many centuries past…

 

I, stepped out into Spring!

 A wet, overpowering dense fog

clinging to plants

obscuring everything…

equally

 

the warm, wet morning

the ensuing rains

elicit a smile…

 

greeted by peas and radishes

in the garden

onions growing tall

tomato and pepper plants begging

to be planted

 

Is it spring?

is it spring?

is it spring they cry?

 

I declare it, at last…

in my world,

Spring is here

            

Cooking for my love

Weekdays

I go to work and come home tired

my love has cooked dinner-

yes, he’s retired;

on weekends I make fresh coffee

and breakfast creations

and do the dishes

and plan dinner…

All of this excitement…

This morning- breakfast pizza

 eggs , sausage, hash browns

grilled onions and peppers.

This evening- homemade

Pazole.

I wonder what life will reveal

if I no longer have a job.

Will I go crazy and get fat

from cooking?

Kind of scary…

 

 

 

 

Cooking winter memories

The breeze suddenly shifted,

the temps drift downward…

 

Romeo lugs the citrus trees back in the house
after the young tomato transplants

are covered.

 

Austin, Texas weather…

The gardeners challenge- 2014!

 

Pot of pintos on the stove with ham hock…

we’ll have cheese biscuits later, too.

 

Reminds me of my eldest son…

“What’s for dinner Mom? I’ll come make you a fire this afternoon”.

 

He loathed the cold…but loved fires.

 

I miss him today-

I won’t have that fire

 

His memory is warm and safe in

my heart.

It’s a great day to stay inside and write.

I can feel a change coming in the air tonight…

 Today, our windows were thrown open,
air filtering through the wet morning fog and afternoon sun.
My heart is happy,
my soul smiled.
Romeo continues to work the garden beds
He’s planted a few tomato plants
sowed peas, radishes; he,
humbly, grumbly considered my potential
cucumber hoops instead of the standard upright trellis…
Since the execution of the chinaberry tree,
a few months ago,
we revel in the newly reclaimed sun!
Romeo loaded and hauled more compost and manure;
while the tiny dog and I were basking in the late sun’s glow!
In the night the winds will shift
bringing a chance of early March storms…
amid blessed, whispered for, prayed for,
Rain!
We push our springtime garden envelopes
 here in Central Texas
“In like a lion-out-like a lamb”
I, a Lioness!
Romeo, my Lamb!

The face in the mirror

My face
is rumpled…
a splash of sunlight
and smiles,
of freckles
and porcelain…
of promises broken
and fulfilled
of motherhood and loss
of motherhood and disappointment
of love and
of ecstasy  
and constant sorrow
of the woodlands and the meadow
of the shoreline and the sea
of the firmament
and the cosmos
my face
the clear reflection
of my Creator.