Sunday, July 31, 2011

Biographer's Meditation

In school we studied names and dates
Of you who came before
But stories whispered in my dreams
Tell me there's so much more.
I thirst for more to memorize,
More links to eras past.
From pages of debates and wars
I hear your voice at last.
I must write your story;
I must try at least.
Now sparks from your soul
To my heart increase.
With unfrozen breath
From you whom we call "dead"
I transcribe with devotion
Things you might have said.


© Judith C Evans 2009

Submitted to Poetry Pantry #60 at Poets United.

July 31



From ornamental olive tree outside laundry room: July's lavender snowfall.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

July 30

Our black, brown and white cat stretches out under the ceiling fan, dreaming with one eye open.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

July 27

Computer-red eyes gaze gleefully at the calendar: four more small stones after tonight!!

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Monday, July 25, 2011

July 25

On the windowsill of my mother's room, our cat stretches in bright evening sunlight.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Thursday, July 21, 2011

July 21

A nestling, all feathers and fuzz, huddles against our wall and listens to our worried voices.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Monday, July 18, 2011

July 18

Cracked, sun-stricken soil turns to powder in brush country wind. Brass-colored cornstalks stand tall.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

July 17

72% of Texas in exceptional drought: a statistic for some, singed cornfields and auctions for others.

Friday, July 15, 2011

July 15

Our cat's warm, purring body nestles against my chest as he kneads the day's burdens from my shoulder.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

July 13

Alone with chocolate-cake-in-a-mug recipe: bakery aromas waft from the microwave as husband and cat sleep.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Monday, July 11, 2011

July 11

Three articles later: burning eyes, temperamental internet connection. Good night.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Saturday, July 9, 2011

July 9

 Whole wheat pizza dough's beery aroma permeates the kitchen as chopped tomatoes glisten on the bamboo cutting board.

Friday, July 8, 2011

July 8

Friday evening: in a grayish tan stoneware mug, steaming lemon balm tea with raw sugar is quietly pressed into service.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

July 7

Object of game: line up matching gems. A flurry of worries dissolves into flashing, tumbling, orange, blue, red, green, and yellow jewels.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

July 6



Coffee-colored yarn loops around the blue crochet hook. Our cat, mesmerized, plots and schemes as the skein unwinds.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

July 5



Spent, we drive home after my appointment: towering, benevolent live oaks recall Texas afternoons hotter than these.

Monday, July 4, 2011

July 4

We busily reflect on self-evident truths as July Fourth dinner sizzles in the skillet.

July 4

Vintage beads, Ancient "Light", Heart of Joy!

small stone written by my husband, John Evans

Saturday, July 2, 2011

July 2

Pastel art: layer upon layer, powdered pigments coat my fingers in peach, sky blue, and French gray silk.