I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

8 September 2011


The moon makes a small white hole
in a square of unrelieved black
in the photo I took last night.

Just as there is a small absence now
in this household, since my son
left at the end of his visit.

I am regretful that I didn’t take a photo
of him, although of course I have
many new ones in my head.

One woman I know mistook him
for his younger brother, who
was here a few years ago.

I kept seeing the many contrasts
between them, thankful for
one sane and loving son.

Thankful for his bright point of light 
against the empty darkness
of that other old sorrow.

Journalling my relationship with the moon: 11

Included in the book, THREE CYCLES OF THE MOON


  1. Rosemary, this broke my heart a little.

    But made me happy for the love you and your older son obviously share.

    Loving your poetry.

  2. Ah well, there has certainly been a lot of heartbreak around the younger, for me and others. But having given up false hopes makes life a lot easier. Yes, I am greatly blessed in my older son, and also my foster-sons and step-children.

    Thanks for reading and loving. :)