Author Archives: Dee

About Dee

I am a working wife, geek, and mother of two with opinions about just about everything which I plan to share here.

Wolf Moon Night

Jae ran through the evening dew, feeling the damp under her paws, the cool evening air rushing over her fur.  Her wolf needed to just run sometimes. She leapt in the air snapping at fireflies.  Would they glow in her mouth if she caught one, she wondered?

She splashed through the stream and the crystal clear sky above twinkled with a million stars in the darkness.  It was moments like this that she could let go of the anger and frustration.  It was hard to hate the change when the night whispered it’s secrets and she breathed in the smells of a thousand living things.

She climbed jumping from rock to rock, claws slipping on smooth stone and gaining purchase again as her own forward momentum carried her further. As last she came to the top of the bluff and stared out over the valley.  She could see a few far away lights, homes where sleep refused to visit.  There was a whiff of woodsmoke from a campfire far down the other side of the mountain.  She heard and smelled his approach, staying still, waiting.

Aedan stood next to her, looking out over the same valley.  He laid down, head on his paws and closed his eyes.  Jae stood a moment longer, then settled down next to him.  She turned her head slightly and he opened one eye.  She again faced the valley and closed her eyes.  No fight tonight.  No anger, just peace.  She would remember this night.  As she drifted off her last thought was that life seemed so much less complicated in wolf form.

Coyote Season

just like Eve
reached for the apple
I stretched my hand
out to the tree though
I knew I shouldn’t

I came back with nothing
but leaves that crumpled
and disappeared on the
breeze please I said
wait I am not ready

I saw coyote running
she and the hawk
they sang to me
winter’s coming
winter’s coming

and just like the store
that dims the lights
near closing time
the light changed
harbinger of summer’s end

ushering in the wind that
will clear the land
for the coat of snow
to come sending
living things to warmer
faraway places

I asked coyote to stay
but he laughed
and said it’s just a trick
of the eyes leaves
in the dust turn to mud

colors fade and green
goes south for a time
and I will sleep
in the hush of frost
wrapped in fire

filled with need to cook
and bring warmth
turn up the lamp to
keep the shadows away
coyote the trickster

hides but the hawk
outs him and the smell of
bread and cinnamon
will hold off the sadness
and I will wait for spring

The Week That Was

This week was a streak of color outside the window of a train I boarded and somehow got run over by.  The new building is really beautiful and I have covered nearly all of it multiple times a day.  Whatever I need to do next seems to always be on another floor at the other end of the world.

There have been minor issues but for the most part, everyone has their remote and their data projector is working.  Still a few audio issues but we are working those out.  Gradebooks are set up and and everyone has been so nice and patient with very little negative remarks.  It seems as though I have hit the ground running everyday and kept moving until I get home and become one with the recliner.

We are trying to get everyone to walk around the seal in the center of the hallway and I am having more trouble than anyone remembering. Yesterday I walked across it and just when I got to the other side I realized what I had done.  I stopped and hung my head and several custodians were sitting in the cafeteria and laughed at me.  One shook his finger and told me I should be ashamed of myself.  Even the custodians seem to be in a mood to joke and I know they are working hard too.  I am going to have to find a way to remind myself.  Usually I am already fifty feet ahead of myself in my mind and lost in thought.

The rain blown in by the hurricane cooled everything off for a bit but today it is terribly humid and I am feeling lazy even though I slept in until a decadent 7:30.  We made a trip to Home Depot for a light fixture for over the kitchen sink and to make some final decisions on range hood, sink, countertop and backsplash.  I am dreading the countertop part of things because once that begins there will be no sink until it is all put back together.  Unfortunately, life will go on anyway – just a bit inconveniently.  The ceiling is done and looks very nice.  We decided that we kinda rock, even if we were growling and snapping at each other toward the end of it.  We were both tired of the mess and tired of having our arms above our heads.  I would say, now that it is finished, that it was worth it.  I would not have said that in the midst of it.

Dale has been sanding and painting cabinets and I have done very little to help him this week.  I was just too tired.  The most activity I got was carrying my Baileys and milk to the chair on the back porch.  This weekend is for a little damage control.  the laundry is piling up and the rest of the house is looking like we are remodeling it as well.

The only thing negative thing I have to say about the new school, is while they are working on Jefferson Rd. and have it closed, the kids all have to come in from the loop.  I say a prayer every day that there will be no accidents.  I have seen kids walking along the loop heading home in the evening and I say a prayer for them too.

Soon, things will settle into a routine and I will be able to spend a little more time writing.  I am afraid that the next few weeks will be the same as the first.  Run run run, pass out.  I don’t think getting exercise in the winter is going to be a problem.  The stairs are going to be my saving grace this year.  No weather worries, just keep climbing 🙂

Tree of Life

Sometimes waiting changes everything

allpoetry.com, Sunday Scribbling prompt#231 wait

Like Elijah in the bible,
he ran as though
life depended on it,
suspended from it.
He was running from
life to an end
of his choosing,
his own way of losing.
No answers, no quick fix,
no way out or bag of tricks,
would make it alright;
make a way out, a way up,
a way back into life,
to his wife to his dreams
that flowed out like
fast streams, wasted down
to the ocean. He ran til
his breath burned and still
found no solace. But one tree
stood tall with good solid
branches, to hold one, to
tie one to fate, and unnoticed
his gone-ness would offer
it’s own apologetics. What
did he believe and was it
all really worth it? He
laid down to rest thinking
after and after, to tie
one good knot and climb
high in the bowers, and one
leap of faithlessness ending
the hours of worry and searching
for answers, for reasons.
To keep on the working, the
trying, the seasons,
and so he did slumber in
shade softly under
the tree which did wonder
why it should be punished?
Should then be remembered
as death’s final say so. It
turned to the sun and in
whispers and pleas found
the answer in grace for the
sun talks to trees, and it’s greenery,
finery, turned into poetry.
Hope and tomorrows
did shower the fellow on
waking, and shaking
the sleep from his eyes and
aware, that he never again
would see skies noticed
leaves filled with light, filled
with words of the world, with
his memories, forgotten and
stashed away folded
like small bits of paper
stuck back in dark cracks
and scuffed up worn roughed up
in old billfolds, reading in wonder,
and tender, and love torn
asunder, he leaned back
on the tree and put his hand on
the bark and said, thank you
and stood. With a last look
he turned and walked back
where he came from, his shoulders
unburdened and next to the base
of the tree now unheeded
unneeded, a small length
of rope slowly covered as wind
blew brown leaves down and
rain washed the tree down
with promise of sunshine
in future tomorrows

Vertrimos Truth

this was for a contest at allpoetry.com

the word bank was a group of made-up words, use at least 6 and poem to be between ten and twenty lines

Adrigony
Blauxist
Diatimerich
dundipple
eraculise
fallacidious
fbiblet
Ichelur
Lopoxary
Gypsacillian
Mulcable
Hombriety
Orvesttee
perflickt
raboritum
scouddle
Thructious
Urgestrate
Vertricimos

my entry:

The blauxist spoke in measured tones
beliefs were strong entrenched in wrong
the gypsacillian yelled the loudest
to the crowd who just threw stones
If speech matched thructious schools
of thought and all would seek hombriety
then mankind would exist for once
in perflickt  fallacidious adrigony
a raboritum could be called on
lopoxary punishments and hate
would urgestrate the crowds and
children scouddle under trees
their parents eraculise and proud
in mulcable peace and harmony

She Loved a Harper

I wandered further in the woods
a harper tune to hear and
as I pushed the branches back
I stood to listen to the tune.
He played the notes that
climbed the clouds
and burrowed into leafy piles
of rotting life on forest floor
and I could not help but
adore the man who stood in
ray of sun beneath the canopy
high above and love became
the siren song that held me
still though I would leave
and hasten to my home alone.
I could not move as mesmerized
he lifted saddened blinded eyes.
His playing stilled, he called to
me. “Who waits there, for I
cannot see?” I answered.
“I would hear some more.
lured here by music on the wind
I am alone and wish no harm.”
His fingers worked the mighty
strings and chorus sweet
he played for me and I began to
sing the words I knew not
still I sang and still he played
late into night,
and sight would be no obstacle
for hearts can hear and speak
a language eyes could never
understand. The music led me to
him and music bid me stay.
He took my hand and walked with
me. I took him home that day,
and now the harper is my own
and music makes our hearts
it’s home.

Grace Rains

prompts: squeaky and clean

rain falls down
in sheets and streaks
and weeks of water
raining down on dirty stained
and grimy slimy dust and
grit and split the seams of pretty covers
over head and under foot so put the soap
out let the rope out lather up and polish
all the dirty hands and muddy feet that
walked where grass is not so sweet
the face is fine it’s mind where
rain won’t reach so just believe
not sway to left or right keep pure in
sight and pray to stand not lean to
keep the heart so squeaky clean so
scrub it up and you will find a new soul
underneath the mess the laces tied
so tight so loose them open up the door
let more love in grace pours out
for all us children needing cleaning