For Claire, on her Wedding Day

The firstborn
Leapt into the world like a unicorn
With twice the myths surrounding her.
She laughed some, cried some, smiled some, screamed some,
And laughed some more,
Laughter contagious like chicken pox
And we all caught it,
A dotted itchy mess.
Fought to hold it in
With not a chance to win
She introduced us to her friend Matilda
Her violin
Told us about little so & so
Who ran snot-first toward her shouting,
How she valiantly defended her treetop throne,
Held her own
Against assailants young and old
From her perch at the McDonald’s playplace.

Do not know Claire
If you have not walked with her for miles,
An appropriate mix of talking
And taking in the world around,
A pleasant sound of ponder wandering.
Do not know Claire
If you haven’t sat eyes closed ears open
Listening to her sing
Winged words of truth and beauty.
Do not know Claire
If you haven’t seen her five minutes before she has to leave:
And then glides pretty as a bluejay out the door.
Do not know Claire
If you haven’t engaged in the rousing drama
That is llama tag.
Do not know Claire
As well as some
As well as one
For He knows how we are formed
He remembers that we are dust
The first man was of the dust of the earth
The second man from heaven, Jesus Christ
The water of life
Turns the dust to mud
To open the eyes of the blind
That we may see
And know that He is God.

And on that grand canvas
Amidst all the other spots
Today He connects two dots.


A breeze like water floats in the midnight air
As somethingness envelops: a tender care.
Breathe deep–the oxygen is thinning;
Peace like a cloud on the moon descending.

We’ve walked for miles and talked for a million more,
Yet still our legs press on and extend the tour–
Rock-solid walls but hesitations,
Silence a fuel for more conversation.

Complacent Push and Pull

The wine bottle is empty again,
Again the brothel full,
But though they smile like happy men
Each sin shall take its toll:
A headache now, a heartache then
A peaceful parting lull—
A hurricane without, within
A weak and wounded soul.

Solaris Nox

The sun creeps into my room at night
And sheds a bit of bright white light;
He sloughs his skin and then moves on
But my room glitters with the dawn.

I love the glow of each solar shard,
But it sure does make going to sleep quite hard.


Lather, rinse, lather, rinse:
Fall into the cyclic pattern,
Ring around the realm of Saturn.
Lather, rinse, lather, rinse.
Go to work. Go to bed.
Go on green. Stop on red.
Lather, rinse, lather, rinse:
An artist without audience.


The needle meets the thread
And shaking hands
They lock their gazes
Exchanging glances
Start their dances
A wandering maze
To raise the dead.


Just a friendly volley,
Albeit we kept the score;
Kept track of faults and folly,
Ended match with hope of more.

Reading Rainbow

Ask me how much I love a book and I will point to the pages:
Ink-dipped and sweating
Drops of gold, fluorescent hues–
My own views
In the margins,
Contradicting and confirming,
With the author:
Reactionary statements,
Words defined and underlined,
Ripples through the beige–
Memories for the ages.

Tea, yes Scissors, no

Herbal Hermeneutic

Lemonbalm slowdown (
The kids still scream around the playground )
Lilac relaxation (
Chicken on the monkeybars )
Lavender duration–
Life is chutes and ladders.

Sometimes even they slow down

Photo by Claire Anthony


Battle #27

Every day she walked past the shop window
Pretending not to look inside;
She’d stop and check reflection, seeing within
The clothes the mirror hide.
While moving away she checked her pace,
Keeping it casual and slow
While thoughts raced with dreams of gowns and lace–
Her face carried the glow.

American Beauty

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