“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


katie leaves her christmas lights up all year long because this

it's all curves and curls on that side of that house - spiral staircase, sidewalk curving past it, leaves and limbs and climbing vines.  in the darkness i move to the back yard, the leaves just a kiss or two above my head, bathed in the red of those lights.  the cat chases me, climbing the stairs and down again, hiding in the tall grass, pouncing at me when i pass her again.


autumn showed up this morning on cool breezes, her skirt flying up in the air, not a bit of shyness in her bones, teasing, hiding, flashing one lovely leg at a time from behind a tree still flush with green leaves.  tonight she is sexy sly, slow dancing, a glass of something red in her hands.  the cicadas are mostly gone, and the evening fills with different sounds. the cat comes in without an argument and curls on the couch, almost asleep.




  1. oh my, so gorgeous. i don't drink coffee, but your writing always makes me think of a rich, dark cup of coffee with cream stirred through it.

  2. oh my, that is just one big, big smile. love.


come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .