To Know Without Knowing
Red moss, crimson as the blood of a slaughtered calf,
I knew I had seen it before but could not recall
where or when. To see a landscape painting, knowing
I had been there before
In the Valley of Cobblers, children ran barefoot on
summer grass and scented wildflowers
unpasteurized milk, and healthy, innocent laughter.
I know this to be true, but I don’t know why.
I think of reindeer; will they eat red moss used
as they are to the grey variety? The sun keeps shining
like Spanish blood orange with a wicked cold.
The good earth is dry and waits for rain
The Red Moss is a forgotten love story. Perhaps
if I sit still long enough and wait
I will remember it.
Categories:
unpasteurized, absence, angst, art,
Form: ABC
To know and not know.
Red moss, crimson blood of a slaughtered calf
I knew seen it before but could not recall
where and when.
Like seeing a landscape painting in a valley
of cobblers where children ran barefoot on
summer grass and scents of wildflowers.
Unpasteurized milk had laughter in the breeze
I know this to be true but do not know why.
I think of raindeers, will they eat red moss
used as they are of the grey variety?
The sun keeps shining like a Spanish orange
so full of juice ready to burst.
The good earth is dry waits for rain, plenty
the red moss is forgotten as a love affair
if I sit still enough, perhaps I will remember
Categories:
unpasteurized, age, gender, growing up,
Form: Sonnet
Fresh unpasteurized sauerkraut
(so probiotic!)
Cooked slowly with sausages,
Potatoes, and ham;
Sweetened with Riesling
A pinch of
Cloves
Categories:
unpasteurized, food, wine,
Form: Epulaeryu
To Know Without Knowing
Red moss, crimson as blood of a slaughtered calf,
I knew I had seen it before but could not recall
where or when. Like seeing a landscape painting
knowing I had been there before, long time ago.
In the valley of cobblers children ran barefoot on
summer grass and they scented of wildflowers
unpasteurized milk and healthy, innocent laughter.
I know this to be true but don’t know why?
I think of reindeers would they eat red moss used
as they are to the grey variety? Sun keeps shining
like Spanish blood orange with a wicked cold.
The good earth is dry, waits for rain…plenty of it.
The red moss is a forgotten love story and perhaps
if I sit still long enough and wait I will remember it.
Categories:
unpasteurized, mystery, red,
Form: Blank verse