Views from Annie's Cabin

miscellaneous musings on aging and living and loving


on June 21, 2014



Stolen time—

why is it so sweet?

What makes me

burn incense

pour a glass of wine

dine by candlelight

(morning, noon, night!)

tiptoe ‘round the cabin

listening to water—

the soft big plops

of rain on the rooftop;

the rushing waves of the high mountain storm

barrelling down the already swollen creek?


What makes the lines of my mouth

soften into a smile

my heart broaden widen and gladden

into a young heart again?


I’m in half shadow,

the dusk of twilight,

in mid-afternoon.


I’m alone



from a world


—oh, maybe not!—

waiting on me.


I’m in Stolen Time,

adrift with my senses.

Alone, just me


the soft wet roar of

delicious rain.

One response to “STOLEN TIME

  1. Jean Ohmsen says:

    that was lovely

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