Victorious Triumphant Pose

I basked last night in Kris Jenkins’ victorious triumphant pose, arms held high.

A split second after the miraculous winning shot swished through the hoop.

The ball left his hands with .4 seconds on the clock.
His moment. Glory. Satisfaction. Joy.

Kris Jenkins’ victorious triumphant pose, arms held high, makes my heart happy.

I considered the images of my day, the 24 hours
Kris Jenkins’ magical shot
Kris Jenkin’s victorious triumphant pose, arms held high.

My day
1. Gorgeous sunset slipping behind a valley of purple flowers and ambling horses
2. Golden sunrise glow illuminating puffy clouds streaking clear morning sky
3. Annie the basset hound bounding joyfully shaking long floor sweeping ears
4. Sprouting tiny green leaf buds surrounding miniature berry clusters
5. Massage table draped for me with orange oil aromatherapy in the head cradle
6. Happy 87th Birthday surprise Mom your grandson & youngest great-granddaughter
6. Baby Eloise gleefully calling “snack” for one dried strawberry after another
7. A Pit special cooked medium rare with lettuce, tomato and sweet potato fries
8. My purring Pierre the cat curled on the back of the sofa behind my head

Me, victorious triumphant pose, 2 arms held high.

The Chair

I thought you’d love me…
You saw that tiny bit of me
And infatuation took over
Anticipation fantasy hope
Keeping the space I’d fill empty
You imagined me for a month
Beautifully filling the space
Now I’m here and I see the
Sideways glances yearning to
Love me but barely lukewarm
I was always green and shiny
You cover me with a blanket
A blue pillow might help
It’s suggested you drape a
Sheet over me “it’s sad you
Are so disappointed.” of you
She says. I boil. What about me?
I have to stay here in duplicate
Shiny green and unloved for
As long as you can stand me
Or until I change your mind

Driving Home

Stripe sash horizon smolders
Mottled coral sun drone hovers
Astride azure sky skirting
Leafless skeletons officiating
Mellow discordant palettes

Pink and blue dappled sky
Waning winter evening light
Pearly pastel floating puffs
A baby shower basket
Welcome sweet softness

The Time Before

This may be the best minute of the year
Three days before Christmas five thirty AM
When the darkness envelops me while
The day stretches out ahead of me
Minutes of dark solitude nourished
By delicious strong coffee and quiet joy
Silently worshiping the peace and calm
The seconds before the anticipation peaks
With unrestrained hubbub adorned with
Overwhelming red and green excitement
Exuding love set on fire with hope


If photography was my job
I’d have stopped at the hill’s crest
Overlooking rolling valley fields
I’d have carefully crafted a shot
Of streaming sunbeams piercing
Sundry shades of gray white lace

Instead I drove down the hill
Staring at each beam’s stream
Burning the image into my brain
Commemorating the dance of
Glowing light funnels shooting the
Gap in the clouds leaking golden streaks