Last night the Blood moon, a luminous red marble, stunning and simple.  Today a quiet house, a break in the rain and opportunity to write a bit, and even though my “to do” list is longer than I can possibly accomplish, I take a break and spend time drinking coffee and staring out the window, spellbound and decide to write a poem.  A poem.  A derivative thought. In April I wrote my first poem, and here,  eight months later, forgive me, but I am seriously ADDICTED to writing poetry.

There is something silver
And brilliant when
Sunbeams break through
Filtered clouds
On wintry waters
Making Icy diamonds
That glitter on 
The shimmering surface.
A bright trajectory of
Brilliant light that
      Beckons me
         Holds me
           Mesmerizes me.
Until.
The crash of the waves
The cry of an eagle
A car passes and
Breaks the spell.
Out of the dream.
One more glance and
I turn towards
Life's rougher things.