
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
The little lamp
Refused to go.
Morning or no
It dug its toe
And held on glowing
In the snow.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
The little lamp
Refused to go.
Morning or no
It dug its toe
And held on glowing
In the snow.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Atara Katz
To the fingers of winter
That are still
Gripping hold:
You have done all you could
To prevail with the cold
But it’s time
To move on
Summer’s soon
You’ve been warned …
For The Daily Post

Photo: Greg’s Always Catchin’ Up, on Flickr
Harbingers of feast
Or famine
Inhabitants
Of all
But the Antarctic ice,
These carriers of fire
From the gods to land,
Teach city folk
And country dwellers
That one can make a home,
Find plenty,
All around.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Dvora Freedman
In the spring soon to come
As the snow loses hold
The intrepid push up
Unafraid of the cold.
They poke heads
Lead the way
And in rush to full blush
Chase the winter away.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Amitai Asif
When life turns back onto itself
When flow seems stalled
Or slogs to mud
Hope still remains
A promise curled in gathered clouds
For though they hide the current sun
They still meander
Toward a future
Of fertile streams
To guard.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Amitai Asif
“Can animals be naked?” he asked, his little forehead creased in perplexed concentration.
“Naked how?” I responded. “Animals don’t usually wear clothes. People may dress their dogs with coats or booties if its raining or snowing, but even that only sometimes.”
He waved me off. “I’m not talking about dogs, even.”
I smiled. The kindergartener’s contenance was a smaller version of adolescents’ exasperation at the ‘know-nothing-adults’ they are somehow expected to live with.
“Oh, okay.” I conceded, “I guess I misunderstood. What did you mean, then?”
“Other things. Like, um … snakes.”
“Snakes?!” I repeated.
“Yeah.” He moved his head up and down for emphasis. “Because I think maybe a snake took his clothes off and ran away and now he’s naked.”
Comprehension slithered in to lift my confusion. “Was this when you went to visit your grandma in Arizona?”
He nodded again. “It looked like a snake but it was only snake clothes.”
I grinned. “I think you saw a snake skin shed! How cool! But don’t worry, it still has skin on its body. You see, when a snake’s skin is too small for it, it grows new skin underneath and then it wriggles out of the old skin and sheds it inside out like a sock.”
The little boy narrowed his eyes and inspected my expression to see if I was perhaps pulling his leg. What he saw in my face must’ve reassured him.
“Good,” he said. “Because I didn’t want everyone to see his privates.”
For The Daily Post

Photo: Amitai Asif
Not quite done
Not quite grown
Not quite seen
Not quite known
Almost here
Almost time
Life suspended
Redifined.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Amitai Asif
There are eons of old
Set in stone
Pressed in rock.
Do you hear them
Or not
Do you know
What you’re told
Can you feel part of all
That had gone
And which may
Or may not
Come along
To live on?
For The Daily Post

Photo: Atara Katz
The repose of this seal makes me smile … The serene surrender to a nap, oblivious to walkers by; the wannabe-seals of the rocks behind; the temporary real-estate afforded by low tide; the breathing surf that must be humming onto sand; the calm potential for the world around.
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