Santa Fe Door

I must caulk around the lintels

patch the roof

paint the walls

shim the doors

fix the leaky faucet

confront the pack rats.


I hold my breath

the geyser of impatience

ready to spew.

I must get it done

so I can have peace.

Purple Mountain Flowers Close

The Beloved draws me up

into His arms,

whispers in my ear,

“Sit on the porch, dear one.

Drink tea and eat cherries.

Gaze out at the purple storm clouds.

Love Me,

while I fix the house.”

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