Thursday, April 21, 2011


At a floor-to-ceiling window in my home library, there's a flat spot on the hardwood floor. It's the only space along that floor that doesn't shine.

The shine was worn away over the years by family dogs---first Lady and then Jack---who spent a lot of time lying at that window watching the world go by.

Every day in every season, we humans would sit and sip our coffee in that room, and a dog was always at that window near us. It was a comfort we enjoyed, the dog and its people; it's a comfort we haven't enjoyed since our "doberperson" Jack's death in 2009.

Sometimes my husband Bob will say to me, "We need to sand that section of the floor and restore the finish."

And I will always answer, "I don't want to do that. That flat spot is a memory, and I won't let it go."

So the flat spot will remain without its former shine. A souvenir of something special in our lives.

---Rose M., April 21, 20ll

Wednesday, April 20, 2011


This very wintry April 2011 has seemed so permanent. Then I found this free-form poem in my journals, and it reminded that April isn't always what this year's has been. And so I share this poem with you to remind you, as it reminded me, that Spring always does arrive, however late. (R.Moore)


Snow this morning put a grizzled face on April

and I complained

some awful snowy day this is

some awful day

some awful snowy April day

And then I conjured in my mind

the magic of some different April days

some sweet-surprise-you April days

beaming sunny

warm and cheerful

April days

Sandwiched brilliant in between the

cloudy rainy

icy snowy


cold and gloomy

April days

Delightful days of April witchcraft

prancing in

on kindly breeze

and softening sun

blithe and charming

oh seductive

April days

Precious and more prized

than later days

of spring and summer

richer by rambunctious contrast


bright and sunny

warm and sexy siren

April days

--rose moore April 3, 1994, written on a deep-snow Easter morning, preceded by a spectacular day of 70 degrees