A little poem to Jim by Annabelle You are staring at me from the paper, your eyes fixed on something I can’t see. What were you thinking when this photograph was taken? You look astonished or maybe just your best.... Your face will never cease to hit me right between the eyes. It is the way you look right through me, that will always come as a surprise.

In response to Annabelle’s Poem to Jim... by Genie I die a little every time your image hits me this hard. I die into some kind of disbelief that a photograph could hit me so hard I die into some kind of recognition of feelings I would like to disguise with bravado, and posturings of self-assurance - I don’t know who I am half the time because bits of me die a little every time your image hits me this hard.

Poem to ‘That Picture’(All the Leonardos say to each other): “She’s back!” “Who?” “The Other One…” “Oh, Lord… are we in the mood for this? ”This silly woman! This woman who died into her new life -The life that glows & splatters Collides In a ‘high five’ attitude With each and every being She surges through you As intensly as she will….. Seducing your mood Into playful conspiracy “It was ThatPicture!”, she said. It was ThatPicture That turned her silly today; ThatImage pulled back all the little bits of her that yesterday she feared had died and scattered... It was ‘That Picture...’

Soul Sublime Soul Sublime married Body Beautiful. Shining Eyes was born

I saw you at the lake today. Have I written to you lately? I don’t think so. There was that poem I posted, last November 11th...but apart from that it feels as if I’ve only written around you somehow; around and about. I saw you today at the lake. The place that pulls me whenever answers won’t come and surrender is all I can do; and surrender is what I fight. It’s been a year of momentous changes; of turbulence, passion, joy, heartache and loss. Lots going on -I’m burned out: I’m at a crossroads. I saw you today at the lake. I had asked for help: so hard to do; I asked a friend to go and walk with me awhile. Then we sat near the water and shared a rare moment of silence. Suddenly, our eyes were caught by a beautiful mallard and his small brown mate as they floated just a few feet away from where we sat: arms wrapped around knees, blades of weeds dangling from our lips. “That’s Leonardo....and me”, I said. I can’t think why I made such an outrageous statement. But my friend laughed and said, “That’s weird... it’s exactly what I was thinking”. The little brown speckled female playfully bobbed and flitted alongside her lovely male, who steadily slowed his pace to stay near her. He turned his head constantly to look at her, conveying a sense of protectivenes and pride. “I want that”, I said. I saw you at the lake today.