Small Stone: January 17, 2013

The cold snap abated. 

With just a few hours of warmth

the scraggly street-magnolia

burst into bloom, literally overnight!

Last year’s leaves have not fallen.

Yet, it is full of Spring.

I felt such a burst of joy─

I laughed out loud. Thanks, Tree.

Small Stone: January 16, 2013

Twice this week I have seen young men

and women joyfully greeting older folks on the bus.

Moments of recognition. Truly respectful, happy and

inter-generational moments. All of the young people

and their elders were Latino.

I often sense community, as I walk or ride

in the Mission district. The lilt of Spanish, the warmth

of a smile. The loving interaction of parents and small

children. A real lesson in what our culture gains

by immigration.

The photo is of a California poppy--a native flower. 

Just seemed to fit for this post.

Small Stone: January 15, 2013

It is too easy to go through the days,

even weeks not realizing the presence

of the mother…mother earth, earth mothers,

the presence of mother strength in families

and community. Here is a celebration of

women and the mother image, just a block

or so from my home.

Small Stone: January 14, 2013

Frosty sunrise, but the line of thin clouds to the west

indicates that the cold front is moving through.

My street, still in shadow and so quiet on a cold morning.

Peaceful urban moment.

Small Stone: January 13, 2013

My poetry group spent the weekend discussing,

debating and luxuriating in poetry. The wonderful Koda,

never left the center of the circle, observing,

occasionally nudging for attention

and certain at all times that he is part of the group.

Small Stone: January 12, 2013

Sunset, highlighting the icy clouds

streaming down from the Gulf of Alaska.

It is so seldom cold here that we treat it

like a gift. May have frost nearby tonight.

But, it is not a gift for the animals and people

who do not have warm shelter in this City

of Saint Francis.

Small Stone: January 11, 2013

A chilled afternoon walk to my local market.

Pondering how much I want to carry back up

the small hill to my house. Kind of lethargic and unsure:

create a good meal, or zap something in the microwave. 

Absolutely sure, though, that my “stone”

for today is going to be gray.

And, then I  am confronted

by the flower vendor changing 

Winter to Spring.