Tag Archives: free verse

seasonal shifts

Perfection in miniature…the artistry of a black-tailed red sheet weaver. My yard is loaded with these little webs. When I walk my dog in the field at night with my head lamp on the ground flickers with sparkling blue eyes when the light hits them. My favorite glimmer yet.
seasonal shifts

it’s been raining for days
ache settling in deep, lingering
i would trade the wisdom of 70 years
for an hour’s relief from the pain
bone on bone, sinews on fire
it’s been raining for days
drenching me in acid
frizzing my thinning hair
pins and needles gnawing my skin
aging gracefully is a myth they tell us
when we are young and unbothered
when aging is just a word used
to sell us creams, serums, oils and
elixirs from some elusive fountain
hooking us when we are young
as if we can stop the seasons
even nature loses her luster in autumn
cold breezes toss the turning leaves
inviting them to break free
for a brief, exhilarating plunge to earth
to settle under a wisp of sparkling frost
it’s been raining for days
and it occurs to me that I am clinging
too tightly to broken promises of youth
it’s time for me too, to let go, to enter
into my season of rest, to stop pushing
through, to nurture my tender places
to settle in under a wisp of sparkling frost
beautiful winter, dark and crystalline,
harbinger of spring, is coming soon

~kat
much love, peace, and glimmers to you! ✨💚✨

meandering thoughts on an autumn day

Late afternoon sun…quite the glimmer I think. I’m not entirely sure that this stream of verse warranted posting…but I penned it so here you go. Peace to you!
meandering thoughts on an autumn day

it occurs to me after
all these many years
that I have no idea
what I’m doing or how
or who, where, or even why
I am quite convinced that I am
clueless on all fronts.
It has me wondering
what the point is after all
if there is a point, or if
there even needs to be
a point.
I suppose,
and I am not particularly
concerned about this,
I’m evolving into pointlessness
with no what’s, how’s, who’s, where’s or why’s…


you know,
the trees don’t bother
with such silliness.
they bloom in the spring, provide
shade and shelter in summer,
bear fruit, and then
they let go of it all in autumn
leaves twirling on the wind before
resting on the cool loam…
as winter, with its dark nights
and bitter cold frost clings
to barren brittle limbs,
life suspended for a season
pointless to wondering eyes
or so it might seem, except
there is a raging inferno
beneath the frozen ground
embers flickering in harmony
with the budding blooms of spring
as if to say, let’s do it all again!
and nature complies
as she always does
without ever
asking why

~kat

Much love, peace, and glimmers to you!


a tree in season


a tree in season

as the days grow short, evenings cool
she braces herself against the wind,
the inevitable season of letting go
gone are hot summer endless days
the reaper raises his sickle,
a harvest to collect, alms to the piper
she still remembers spring’s greening
wasn’t it only yesterday leaf buds
swelled from her winter bones,
air earthy, damp, fragrant with dew
sun slowing its course through the sky…
it was yesterday, she remembers it well
the hours, the days, the decades slipping
through her fingers like sugar, bittersweet
letting go the fruit of all her labor
like seasons past, seasons yet to come
the hearth grows warm, embers glowing
her limbs rest heavy with sleep,
drifting into this final season
of life, too short in retrospect

~kat
much love, peace, and glimmers to you…Autumn is in the wings. ✨🌿💚🌿✨

dawn with the birds

a twin hickory nut tree…perfect for a group hug! ✨💚✨
dawn with the birds

when dawn emerges in the foothills,
and the blue jays squawk loudly
I scatter peanuts, corn, and
meal worms to console them,
admittedly though, the mealworms
are for a murder…of crows
who gather when the jays have
quieted and had their fill,
when the sun is high in the sky,
they feast and jabber, hopping
happily around my earnest offering
while a lone hawk screeches nearby
not at all interested in the corn,
the peanuts, not even the mealworms,
no, the hawk fancies warm-blooded fare
a mourning dove who lingered seconds
too long at the seed feeder, or perhaps
a finch, young squirrel, or chipmunk,
though the latter, I have observed
are quite adept at evading capture
and ultimate slaughter…there are bees
buzzing nearby gathering nectar, dusting
pollen as they flit, and hummingbirds
hover directly in from of me until
we are eye to eye, their wings humming,
every morning there is want,
expectation, joy, connection, unspoken
acknowledgement amidst
the looming shadow of carnage,
drama, survival, life encapsulated
in the simplicity of nature, who
in her magnificent wisdom sustains us
in an unbroken cycle, the seasons,
dawn and dusk, day and night, where
nothing is personal, malevolent, or cruel
i linger long letting the morning gird me,
as I listen, observe, and breathe
sweetness of a new day before
venturing into the harsh reality
where self-absorbed humans deny
we are all from dust and to dust
we are destined to return
the dust on my feet and in my lungs
remind me to walk gently…to be kind

~kat
Much love, peace, and glimmers to you! ✨💚✨

Summer of 2026 in ReVerse

It has been a few months since I did a ReVerse poem. It’s a little exercise I do to discover where my head was at over a past period of time. I select a favorite line from each day’s writing and mash them into a new poem in sequential order oldest to recent. It shouldn’t work, but surprisingly, it often does. I give you the summer of 2026 in ReVerse!


Summer of 2026 in ReVerse

I’m still here
being
when i’m dust, may
light filtered through stained glass
just a glimmer…
Escalate…
‘twas not dawn’s first light
I am severely distracted
in the shadow of the reaper
it is safety, and freedom
before the world got heavy
devouring the dark night
I have survived
life happened, life kept happening
steam rising from the pavement
we remain a fractured fail,
sorry
celebrating diversity
we’re reminded we are one
fierceness is just hot air
to write or not to write…
Put your feet up and rest
it is a good day
if there is such a place
too ignorant to realize
I breathe, intentionally, deeply,
even the trees look weary,
…we can shed what no longer serves us

~kat

And here are a few of my favorite glimmers…