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.

Small Stone: January 10, 2013

This morning in front of the discount fish market

on diverse Mission Street:

Fitfully sleeping on the bus-stop bench,

as usual ─ the grizzled old man existing

in the last, probably hopeless,

stages of an alcoholic reality.

Nearby, two beautifully groomed ladies,

perhaps near the same age

hand out Spanish-language Watchtower

magazines: offering their great hope

for eternity.

A photo of today would have been invasive

and inappropriate. Thought I would cast my

eyes upward with this older photo.

Small Stone: January 9, 2013

Dragon slayer. The artist turned

the idea up side down…

the marching dragon

has the saber!

This is a wonderful fence around

our local playground designed by

my friend, Michael Bartalos.

Small Stone: January 8, 2013

Out with the old,

though so recently new.

I made no resolution

to make such change.

Today: seems inevitable.

Small Stone: January 7, 2013

Astonishingly gray day,

not a hint of sun, light diffused.

Against the sky, the many shades

of a winter’s green, enhanced. 

Small Stone: January 6, 2013

One of the tallest trees

in the City is in a back garden,

down the block.

I see it growing every morning,

but many days don't notice.

What did the person who planted a seedling,

perhaps a hundred years ago,

know of duration or time?

Small Stone: January 5, 2013

A quiet, rain-spattered afternoon,

hoping that a moment of reflection

might unfurl as I read or doze.

Sound of rain, a whiff of smoke

from a neighbor’s warming fire

and just outside my kitchen window

a fern unfolds.