Finding Freedom

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Running with Victor
We found the pace of freedom
Our feet became wings

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remembering the brightness of flowers

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Falling

They carpet our sidewalks with the stages of their grace and degradation. Leaves that only hours ago were still supple, red and yellow are now brittle, brown and gray. The most vibrant among them cling precariously to their branches, sheathing trees in multi-colored lace. Yet with the slightest rustle of wind or rain they too will fall away, leaving trees with only fingers to shield them from winter’s cold.

At times it feels the fall has lain me bare as well. Stories and beliefs that only yesterday encircled me with brilliant light now cast their fragile weight toward earth. Cling as I might, transparency looms. And I have only fingers left to shield me from the cold.

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morning walk

morning walk

My morning walk with Katie has become a thing of beauty. Squirrels dancing in bare tree limbs, chattering in their other-worldly language, sturdy northeastern birds singing to the still late rising sun. I am differently awake at this hour, my thoughts weightless and unhurried. I breath differently, feeling the cold air slide through my nose and down my throat. Katie takes endless pleasure in the snow, pouncing and rolling and shoving her face in holes. Her amusement is infectious, and I cannot help but smile at her antics.

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mid-winter storm

this storm brought with it a floating, other-worldly feeling unlike others in recent memory. the snow seeming to materialize on every surface at once, from every possible direction, like breath itself. there was no clear beginning, middle or end, only swirling eddies of cold light filling the air. it was easy to doubt its magnitude, so subtly did it begin, and grow, and swell, until suddenly snow was everywhere, shrinking our world as it spilled over porches, sidewalks, cars and streets. photo2beginning of the storm

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Dusk at sea

  • Dusk at sea
  • AT FIRST I 
    THOUGHT
    
    The blue jay
    Was the last leaf
    To fall
    When it rocked
    From side to side
    And slowly tumbled
    To land on the snow
    Weightless
    As a piece of sky
    Broken off
    The cold blue place
    Where winter keeps
    The number zero.
    — TOM HENNEN, the author of the forthcoming “Darkness Sticks to Everything: New and Collected Poems,” which includes this poem, as appearing in the New York Times on Dec. 15, 2012
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Oh, how

that smile reminds me
of parts of me still broken
unattainable

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