Solstice
The ancient ceremony starts in autumn
blessing earthly work and wonder;
Rituals of reaping, burning brightly,
moon arising, leaves asunder.
Barely a blink – a summer dream –
rushing did the warmer solstice fly;
And now we are tucked quietly into winter
under the blanket of a cold, cold starry sky.
-Kathleen C. Cooper, December 2020
Some will be ghosts
a psalm: Quidam nunc recordatus
Some are now remembered
but unknown,
that is, lives
concluded –
acceptably or not;
these are the saints and souls.
Evidence occasional,
a buffer, interference,
guardians and watchers;
these are angels.
Life, untidy
shifting modes of existence –
entirely reasonable, fair even;
in the case of a life unresolved,
some will be ghosts.
– Kathleen C Cooper 10.28.2020
The clay from your wheel
sits in my hand as a bowl –
as your hands in mine.
My sister & I –
do you remember us? We
bought a set to share.
Now, you and I, though
strangers, are connected by
two blue and brown bowls.
-Kathleen C Cooper 10-18-2020
Pottery by Ann Heywood https://annheywood.com
fusing words and metal
and the ordinary ordinary
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watch the puddle 