Caroline Gerardo haiku, journal

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Grove Haiku

Grove cut to bare stumps ~ roots call hardwood to return ~ branches ignite sky.
Copyright 2/ 2016 Caroline Gerardo

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Glacier Carving

Glacier Carving Poem

Can you see a glacier carving?
Red tailed Hawk nabbed bunny in the garden
leaving orphaned rabbit.
Nub of fluff prefers radicchio to arugula.
Wouldn't mind if it was the other way around.
Arugula is a wild weed in my yard.

For now I'm letting it happen.
Wife with a cheating husband.
Been there done that.

Never check financials 
bit by bit one loses faith.

Liquidate stocks before the crash.

Hear that screeching of rocks moving.
Listen with heart open to
 liquid of boulder passing through.

Caroline Gerardo Images and Poetry Copyright February 2016

Monday, February 8, 2016

Apple for the Pony

My last novel in progress Soothsayer is in the submission stage.
I'm waiting for answers from Publishers.
Query is not fun. My pitch is simple and straight.
Buy this book.
Put that coffee down C G - coffee is for closers.

Meanwhile I'm working on two short stories and
about 20000 words into the next long form novel.
The next novel, working title Missing is about
life after suicide.
One short is completed - the other just a draft.
By the time I have heard back from publisher
I will have the next book first draft and five short
stories for an anthology.

Images taken on Tejon Ranch. The landscape is
like the Great Drought the location of Soothsayer.
This brown pony found me hiking on the wrong
side of electric fences (also like the novel).
A Golden Pippin apple was in the bottom of my day pack.
I cut it in half thinking we would share then along
trotted another full sized mare. She got the other half.
Rather than hear solo footsteps echo I was joined by the
pals for about three miles until the end of the gate.
They let me give the horse a soft rub down the
ridge of her nose, a stroke and a nose to nose
with the pony.
As I walked on I could hear them call me to
Wish I brought more than one treat for myself.

Caroline Gerardo
Copyright 2/8/2016

Saturday, February 6, 2016

Fog Lifts

Seed Catalogs pile on the coffee table. 
Not throwing them out with the clutter purge, yet.
By this time of year I clone roses, clematis vines, 
and hydrangeas. Winter is seeds purchasing time. Start them in sunny
kitchen windows, then move gradually to the "greenhouse." 
Greenhouse doesn't have heat. Normally in Coastal California nights
don't freeze. Last couple, however; harsh dry winds and 
cold threatens to burn tender projects. Mild freeze turns chartreuse new
sprouts to red. Frost makes the cells turn to mush as if desiccated
then liquidated. The tingling feeling in fingers when exposed
to snow too long. 

Since the plan is in pen to sell and move I haven't traded seeds on
heirloom seed swap and garden web seed exchange. 
In the garage sit paper bags full of smaller brown parcels of seeds. 
An idea came to mind to plant them in my Mother's 
and sister's gardens in hopes they bloom
and produce seed for 2017 
when I plan to be settled in a new home. 
I'm downsizing from a huge high maintenance castle. 
I plan to rent for six months to a year.
Find the ideal cottage with a small yard. 
Everywhere I lived I changed an ugly plat or acreage into a stain glass church of flowers.
Come over before the smell of paradise disappears.
Will I stay here? Perhaps renting is a change that frees time.
No longer will I be weekend warrior.
Scrubbing the pool tile, painting ceilings or repairing plumbing. 
Did I tell you about the six foot glass panel shattering over the
pansies Sunday? I'm still picking up bits. 
Save Honey (Golden Retriever) from harm with tangled contraptions.

Will this give me the desire to fly? 
After living in suburbia and owning a ranch to give my children a great
life start maybe I will move to New York or back to London or Mumbai?

My necklace clasp hits cross and hair entwines. 
It's a sign.
Morning fog lifts. 
Time to pray for all.

Cells below fingernails have minuscule shards of glass.
Becoming a part of my spirit
It's not like sand in eye scratching.
It's that missing feeling when I think of my son at college.
Or when someone mentioned Lacrosse on Facebook.
No more running to High School games to work the stats.

But it's in my heart.
Fog before hiking Yosemite 2016 Caroline Gerardo

morning Yosemite snow and fog Caroline Gerardo

Chain link fence and morning sun

Caroline Gerardo Copyright 2/6/2016 
Empty Nest Thoughts

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Railroad Poem

in margin 
in silence
in death
pass columns
Doric, Ionic, Corinthian order. 

no mule
no shoes
no saddle 
sky shatters
soft, long, stormy sounds.

is spirit
is cross
is gold
fix tangle
hair, skin, metal collide.

of dust
of memory
of hearts
whisper prayers
creosote, copper, concrete joy.

Railroad Poem 2016 copyright Caroline Gerardo