Another year gone-- 
hat in hand, 
    sandals on my feet.
   
Matsuo Basho (1644-1694)

frozen lake - LeafWind Web Design

In us she lives
the woman
the rag doll woman
gathering treasures
by the sea side

her body
a rocking ship
singing
in plastic bottles
she passes rain-days

flat feet slapping
with grace
arms carefully bent
her body a ballet
performed for her alone.

© Alexandra Ekkelenkamp (1999)

seasons

	after a while
	there is silence:
tides curl the shore,
time calls, the father of seasons,
they leave, summoned
while here and there
someone watches the sun set,
remembering 
mornings past, mornings coming -
thoughts sometimes held
in the wishing hands
of memories, hopes, maybe prayers.

	evening comes
	easy in winter, 
we pretend the world's weary
and feels our familiar pain --
the cold bare wind - we, its chimes
as we cling to warmth held inside us,
inside homes we build loving,
leave cold sometimes,
in memories that fade,
though we color them diligently -
a child's loving dream
in warm hues of daybreaks and sunsets,
in spring not-yet summer,
our books half-unread then --

	time calls, we leave now
to cherish the pages remaining.