It’s Time

Posted on June 8, 2026 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings

It’s Time

“Among the things Billy Pilgrim could not change were the past, the present, and the future.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

“All time is all time. It does not change. It does not lend itself to warnings or explanations. It simply is.
— Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

I time-travel in memory, dreams, through

neuron portals, pages of books
shape-shifting, step-tracing

cloud-chasing, moon-racing

how sad to always be here (or not)

how sad not to remember—or care
about now—or then–

or who

whatever,

it happened,
the hate, the wars, the one to end all,
the ones that preceded,
the ones that followed,

though some will try to erase the pages,
burn the books, arrest the artists,
demonize the designated “others”—Jews,
immigrants, people of color, LBGTQ—

the cosplaying Nazis
have become real,
storm troopers douse rainbows
lightning bolts
bisect hearts

where have all the flowers gone?

Long time passing.

The flowers die to grow again.
The rabbits, chicks, and goslings come again.

Most parents protect,
instill “life lessons,” as my niece says,

(though some should never be parents, as
we all know.)

Still,
even the best, must let their fledglings go . . .

Time was and is.
Time will be—

Time is passing, time flows,
and we are the specks, the drops,
the rain and rivers, earth and sea.

So, it goes.

Hello again! Well, another week. On the positive side, I got to watch so many goslings! I was worried because I hadn’t seen many, but it seems they simply arrived later this year. I watched the two in the video, who had minds of their own, as their parents tried to get them to the river. Then I think I saw the same two the next day also as their parents tried to corral them. Sometimes parenting seems universal. 😂

But the world is a hot mess, as everyone who is paying attention knows. Every network, every newspaper, journalists everywhere should be calling out how insane the current regime is. None of this is normal!! Kristen Welker did calmly call him out, and he lied, acted like a spoiled toddler ,and walked out. I can’t keep track of the craziness. It’s been nonstop since he took office, but now it’s at a whole new level of insane. His Flag Day/ birthday celebration with the UFC monstrosity erected on the South Lawn of the White House? It’s shocking and disgusting, and probably illegal. You can read more here and here.

One of my senators, Sen. Andy Kim, has gone back to Delaney Hall –where he was pepper-sprayed—to check on conditions there again. He wasn’t allowed to speak to any of the people detained there, but what he saw concerned him (for example, an obviously ill woman).

My husband and I participated in two protests this week—one outside of a Citizens Bank. Citizens Bank funds the GEO Group, the organization the operates Delaney Hall and some other private prisons. There were a few MAGA types who called out, angry and obnoxious. But it’s only a few. Besides middle fingers and F- Yous, their big important comments were, “get a job (or life). And one guy who just kept yelling, “when was the last time you got laid?” Like, WTF? We’re protesting concentration camp funding, but he’s more concerned with showing he’s some kind of macho man. MAGA showing us who they are, right? But then there was a father and daughter who came and briefly joined our group. Someone told me they were from S. Carolina, and the girl wanted to join our protest while the mother was inside Wawa (a convenience store). I love that this will be part of her story; that she’ll be able to say remember that time when we were on vacation, and I helped and stood on the right side of history?

The other protest was our local Sunday morning protest. I think that one gets more positive reactions.

I’m not virtue-signaling here. I’m not doing the hard work out there like some people are, and I know it. I’m simply saying what I’m doing, as well as using my voice on this blog and in my poetry. I know not everyone can go out and protest. No one can do everything, but everyone can do something. Pick something you can do—call/write your Congress critters, donate money and/or supplies, write letters or postcards, help with voter drives, and combat dis and misinformation with facts. Here’s a roundup of mobilization events coming up. You can also check Mobilize and Indivisible for events where you are.

As you may have gathered, I re-read Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut. I may have more to say about it in a future post. I remembered, too, the journalist Linda Ellerbee, who used to end her shows with “So, it goes.”

We went to the first Vino and Vibes of the summer at William Heritage Winery. It was at the start of hot weather here, but not humid, and there was a nice breeze, so it was quite comfortable. The next few days got hotter, though still not terribly humid, but we did put on the a/c. On Saturday afternoon, after the protest, we went to Buzby Farm. This is the farm that provides our wonderful weekly share. Every year they have an open house, where those with shares can pick some strawberries for free, and enjoy strawberry shortcake and lemonade. We didn’t go for the tour this year because we’d had enough sun by then!

We finished Margo’s Got Money Troubles. We ended up really enjoying it and getting invested in the characters. We’re still watching Widow’s Bay (episodes drop on Wednesdays), and we just started The Boroughs, which does seem kind of like Stranger Things with older people. I want to see where it’s going.

And speaking of going, it’s time.

Look for the helpers and be one if you can.

Persistence

Posted on July 7, 2025 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings

Persistence

“the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.”
–Walt Whitman, Song of Myself (1892)

Each blade of grass, each leaf
lifting, leaning, lasting as long
as it can

each flower
laughing with verdant veracity and
golden guilelessness at

a sky of melting raspberry sherbet
turning to wheat paste, or indigo

light-slashed by storm-sabers
but going on,

the bees buzz over lavender
and slumber in roses,

the fuzzy goslings grow
and the river flows—

as do we, while
the crows gather, one, two three

and circle,
as do we, though not aliferous, but yearning,

not feeling the rotations, the revolutions,
only seeing the sun setting, ascending, enduring.

Hello again. It’s been some week. I feel like I’ve been writing that every week since January. Sigh. On July 3, the spineless, feckless Republican in the House passed their terrible, horrible, no-good murder bill, and the felon in the White House signed it on July 4, our Independence Day. All of the Democrats in Congress voted against the bill. Minority leader Hakeem Jeffries spoke for over 8 hours to delay the vote. I watched the end, and he was inspiring. The bill is enormously unpopular. After the bill was passed, I, along with millions of other citizens got a piece of propaganda sent from Social Security touting the wonders of it. I’ve never ever received such BS from a government agency. People are already seeing the effects of this bill, as social services are not receiving aid and have to close or cut back. The effects are going to be particularly bad in rural areas of red states, as hospitals close and services are cut. Services are being cut, but $170.7 billion—yes, billion—will go into immigration enforcement. Timothy Snyder, an expert on authoritarianism, has warned that those put into the new concentration camps may be used as slave labor. The demented would-be emperor is calling for a system all over the country like the Florida concentration camp. They jokingly called it Alligator Alcatraz. Others are calling it Alligator Auschwitz. If you think that locking people in cages in the Everglades, smirking about it, and selling merch is OK, then you really are a horrible person.

I saw this in the park and wondered if it was a Yankee Doodle reference. The mounds of dirt are part of the most recent archeological dig there. It’s the site of a Revolutionary War battle. Irony everywhere.

The nation is focused right now on the tragedy in Texas. There’s a lot of finger-pointing and blaming. Someone on social media said she saw people (read Democrats) posting that Texans deserved this tragedy. I have not seen anything like that. Then again, I don’t go on X anymore, my FB is limited to friends and reliable sources of news, and I mostly just read poetry on Bluesky. My heart goes out to people who have lost loved ones—those children! No one deserves that. I just can’t imagine. That doesn’t mean I can’t also say that Republicans are destroying our country. Congress and the Scotus could have reined in the felon. They chose not to. Congress has the power of the purse—we literally fought a revolution for that right. And they are just handing it over. Speaker Johnson gave the demented one the gavel he used in Congress. That’s a strong symbol.

Meanwhile, the weather has been mostly terrible this summer. June is usually a beautiful month, and so far, July is not any better. Fortunately, we’ve had a few beautiful days in-between the extreme heat days and thunderstorms. July 4th was lovely, even though we didn’t celebrate or do anything special that day. We’re back to high heat, high humidity and chance of thunderstorms today and tomorrow with a flash flood warning, too.

Sorry this is such a downer! I still look for beauty; I still seek joy, and I am thankful for many things–my husband, my wonderful family and friends, sunrises when I do see them, poetry, my cats, and summer produce. July 4 is also our younger child’s wedding anniversary. She and her husband have now been married for ten years! It’s hard to believe. This photo popped up recently.

On July 3, I read at a Zoom open mic hosted by Alan Parry, editor of The Broken Spine Press. Last night, I made bruschetta from farm share cherry tomatoes and basil from our garden. We had corn on the cob from our farm share, too, and we opened a great bottle of wine.

We did watch a quiet, lovely little movie over the weekend. It’s from last year. It’s call Touch, and it’s about an Icelandic man who goes searching for a woman he loved in his youth.

Speak out, combat disinformation, and share the truth. There are protests happening regularly. The next big, national one, is Thursday, July 17, Good Trouble Lives On: National Day of Action. It honors the late civil rights leader and congressman John Lewis on the anniversary of his death. Here is one source.

“Get in good trouble, necessary trouble, and redeem the soul of America.”–John Lewis

Look for the helpers and be one if you can.

Summer Flowers

Posted on June 22, 2025 by merrildsmith

Summer Flowers

The night is raw with feeling,
the waning moon is punch-drunk,
in love with love,

in love, the woman thinks
as she stands at the window

and eternity gazes back, ferocious
and unyielding

as a cat with a mouse caught
between his paws

pop, a city gone, a life, another life–

she, we, haunted by ifs,
ephemeral as champagne bubbles,

summer flowers smiling up at the sun—

I visited the Oracle yesterday and then again today to finally get a poem. She’s probably as confused/horrified/saddened as I am right now.

As the Summer Solstice Approaches

Posted on June 15, 2024 by merrildsmith

As the Summer Solstice Approaches

you whisper
in shivelight, slanted shadows sun–shot
slide, shrink
as the amethyst sky turns azure

in robin-chirp and crow-chatter,
you whisper again,

faint as the waning moon,
but there is peach glow
and time to love, more movements
in the symphony, summer-storm snare and
kettledrums, followed by flutes and piano,
serenade to aubade.

Your whispers wind-drift above me, I’m caught
in tree-sough and rose song, the laughter of daisies.

My message from the Oracle.

Determined Illumination

Posted on July 3, 2023 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings:

Determined Illumination

The sky is blue, grey, hazy, or clear
the ground is dry or wet
the world keeps turning, and we’re
here. A flashpoint, fuses set.

And yet, and yet, and yet—

from the middle, can we see,
or do we willingly forget
with wine, books, good company
the smoky air and orange sun, let

it become someone else’s worry?

Still, I won’t regret
love or flowers
glowing in a golden coronet,
nor hours

spent with words or wine,
when time is like a sleepy cat
and laughter echoes as if by design
with great éclat, the stars’ fiat

a fortunate flash in our cosmic tent–
a brief, bustling magnificence, life with if and dreams
determined illumination in evanescent, honeyed streams.

I got the final lines from Kerfe’s Random words.
This past week seemed to go on forever, but still it seemed June suddenly became July. The weather has been crazy, one day clear, and then days of smoky, unhealthy air, followed by clearing and storms. Today it’s warm and humid with thunderstorms forecast for this evening.

Our daughter runs a book club at Blue Cork Winery. June’s book was Fredrik Backman’s Anxious People. This was the night when the air quality was probably at its worst. (We met inside.) It was a small group, but a lively discussion, and I think all of us enjoyed the book. My husband and I had seen the Swedish show based on the book quite a while ago, but I had forgotten most of the story.

By Saturday, the air was clear enough that my husband and I walked at Tall Pines State Preserve.
We’ve been enjoying the bounty of summer—fresh tomatoes, peaches, green beans, corn and more.

We finally watched the movie, Argentina, 1985. It still took some finagling to get the subtitles working. (I don’t like dubbed movies.) It’s a good movie, solid B, maybe B+ with good acting and an important story. It becomes mainly a courtroom drama with riveting (and horrible) testimony, especially from the women victims of the junta. Tomorrow is our Independence Day. (The Continental Congress approved a resolution for independence on July 2, but the document was approved on July 4.)

The “Moms for Liberty,” truly an Orwellian name, has been meeting in Philadelphia. I sent an email note of protest to the Museum of the American Revolution. They are extremists, and the group has been designated a hate group. The former president and the current governor of Florida both spoke at the meeting.

I’ll leave you with this (if you’re still reading):

“some [dictator] may hereafter arise, who laying hold of popular disquietudes, may collect together the desperate and the discontented, and by assuming to themselves the powers of government, may sweep away the liberties of the continent like a deluge.”

–Thomas Paine, Common Sense (1776)

“When due process was eliminated, a true juridical subversion took its place: official reports were replaced by denunciations, questionings were replaced by torture…Slowly, almost in such way that we wouldn’t notice, a machinery of horror unleashed its iniquity over the unaware and the innocent, amidst the disbelief of some, the complicity of others and the stupefaction of many.”

–Julio Strassera in the movie, Argentina, 1985

Blink, and Look Again

Posted on July 25, 2022 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings:

Blink, and Look Again

“There’s a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the weight
Of cathedral tunes. . .”
—Emily Dickinson,
“Tell all the truth but tell it slant —”
—Emily Dickinson

I have more to say about images,
the ones within the ones in frames,
the shadows and reflections,
the dreamworlds
and the in-between

what you see and don’t,
the half-glimpsed, and
the quickly vanished.

Consider the photos
of galaxies beyond, the ghost light we see,
a miracle, amazing, full of color, brighter
than what we’ve ever seen before—

and yet,
it’s a blink from the past,
there’s no way to capture the present,
and hold it tight,

^{Eagles and Crows at the River}

each second flies,
but why do some move so swiftly
on eagle wings,
while others linger,
as bees on flowers–
some burst bright-blossomed,
others fade like the moon
smiling into sunrise clouds,
but most tick past, tiny ants
in the dirt of time.

Quickly, how our babies grow.
Suddenly, how summer skin turns cold.
The green world is dying,
the world is burning and frying,
the grass is crunchy,
the ponds and streams are dry.
We close our windows, turn on the a/c,
say goodbye,
then eat our salads, as so many die.

Life wasn’t simpler before,
we simply didn’t want to know
all the worlds are connected,
the future holds the past.

Who is the woman in the mirror?
What happened to the dark-haired girl?
See my long-legged shadow? A super-hero
in another realm
who bends the light, to see the slant,
in that,
a prism of colors, truth abloom—
perhaps, more than one timeline in this room.

My readers know I love time, shadows, reflections, and all the in-between things. I’m still thinking about the exhibit we saw Pictures in Pictures,

as well as recent movies mentioned in previous posts (Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes and Everything Everywhere All at Once) and then Emily Dickinson popped into my head (as she does) 😏. And the recent Webb Telescope Photos. Now we’re watching Shining Girls (Apple TV), starring Elisabeth Moss, which combines searching for a serial killer who attacked her and time travel—shifting realities. We’re about half-way through the series. Here’s the trailer. I hadn’t watched it before. You probably know already if you’d like this type of show.

It’s been too hot to go anywhere. We may get storms tonight. I’m hoping we get steady rain, not a sudden burst. We had a lot of rain in the spring and early summer, but now everything is very dry from the extreme heat.

There’s been a lot of bird action at the river recently. I’ve seen the young eagle a few times, and once watched crows chasing it.

We’ve been eating this tomato salad a lot for dinner. I never was that fond of tomatoes, but these fresh Jersey farm stand tomatoes with salt, good olive oil, fresh basil, and some fresh mozzarella, along with bread to mop up the juice, are the perfect hot weather dinner.

Take Three Things, and Dream

Posted on June 27, 2022 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings:

Take Three Things, and Dream

Take three things: dazzling sunshine,
a heart, the earth–
toss them about
till your questions have answers,
in that place, meet your dreams, they flutter

^{Crows, Turkey Vultures, Ospreys, Delaware River}

some devoured by vultures, or stamped with regret,
others soaring with promise.
What is, what might be
imparted, parted, part

of a larger truth—
the fabulation of life

the blue horses that dash
from beyond, the secret
that magic is all around us

yet, we reinvent ourselves
over and over, creating new
fantasies and fables, feigning triumph
or obedience, accepting hoaxes,
living in the upside-down

Now take three things again:
heart, sunshine, earth,
ask if but not when
simply wonder, wander
in the middle, till you hear laughter
like champagne bubbles
echoing in pink light, remember–
be steadfast, love fiercely—

Well, this past week certainly was something, wasn’t it? Was it only last Tuesday that we celebrated the solstice?

Then came more revelations from the January 6 Committee Hearings, then a bunch of decisions from the highjacked reactionary Supreme Court, including overturning Roe v. Wade. And amid this, nature just doing what it does, moving on. Sun, clouds, flowers, birds, animals. . .life and death, cycles and circles.

We celebrated our wedding anniversary of many decades—and we’ve known each other more than half a century.

We saw a play on our anniversary (rescheduled because of COVID outbreak in the cast), Fabulation, or the Re-education of Undine by Lynn Nottage at the Lantern Theater. We both enjoyed it—funny, clever, social satire. We both thought the second act was much better than the first, and it all came together in a perfect ending. After the play we went to Tria and enjoyed a lovely Crémant for our anniversary, then a Shiraz for me and beer for my husband. We had a cheeseboard of yummy Pennsylvania cheeses.

On Sunday, we ate Indian food and drank some French Champagne along with champagne chocolates truffles. We watched a London performance of Anything Goes with Sutton Foster that I had recorded a couple months ago. Ricky the Cat loved it.

And here’s a mural for Resa: Garden of Delight.

And Sutton Foster in Anything Goes.

Vanishing Point

Posted on June 7, 2022 by merrildsmith

Vanishing Point

In summer’s late twilight,
violet waves tumble with mystery,
the clouds are shapeshifters,
now ships, now galloping horses
dipping their heads to graze.

This is the place where wishes dangle
and we are hooked–
lungs for gills, legs for voice–
no way to go back,
promises polished like sea glass
shatter on the rocks.

Five years. We still gaze at the horizon,
still listen for his voice, don’t we, Boy?
A tail wag of hope before we turn, leaving
our footprints. Blink, and they’re gone, too.

A poem for my summer ekphrastic prompt on dVerse. I’ve posted several works of art to choose from. Join us!

In this June

Posted on June 26, 2021 by merrildsmith

If in the whisper of sea,
the rolling rush and breathy brush of storm-tossed waves,
kissing the shore,
you dream of moon-song,
then wake to hear the symphony of light lingering–
take my hand, in the peach-petaled sun-glow,
to walk through shadows,
there beneath the craggy cliffs
still heart-haunted, the universe rests—yet–
listen. Do you hear summer sing?
Through open windows, ghosts soar
embracing hereafter, as flowers bloom again,
as love blooms again, as the sky blooms pink and red—again
and again, and again.

Yesterday was our wedding anniversary. It’s been a long, difficult year, and Covid with new variants is still here, but with vaccinations, the world–at least my part of the world–is opening up again. The Oracle always knows. We had a beautiful day yesterday, though we didn’t go to the beach this year. (There will be photos on Monday.)

Green and Growing

Posted on June 14, 2021 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings:

In June, my world is greening, growing
high, the sky in shades of blue and grey,
but showing a spark, a glow, some bit of light,
even on a cloudy day

before daybreak, the robin sings, brings
the pink of dawn, so bright, the sight
awakens geese and bees to hover on
some golden flowers, and in delight

the little ones scamper, goslings, rabbits, deer
hiding in the shade, wade through bushes for the blooms
of orange, yellow, red, violet, and green
growing, knowing all too soon

the colors fade,
but grandmothers with grey-haired wisdom weigh
and know how plants, pictures, stories grow
when nourished with love sway past grey, to stay

beyond June, in memory greening, growing,
like the mockingbird’s song all night and day
holding heartache into laughter flowing–and showing
a path to make everything okay.

Merril’s Movie Club: We watched Minari this week. We both liked this lovely, tender movie very much. It’s the story of a Korean American family trying to make their own American dream on a farm in Arkansas. The dream is really the husband’s, which causes some conflict in the marriage. Yuh-Jung Youn, who plays the grandmother, won an Oscar for her role. She plants minari, a leafy green plant often used in Korean dishes, and also creates a bond with her grandson, after a rocky start.

Thinking about the movie and seeing all the color in this growing season made me think of my mom. She didn’t know anything about planting, but she did teach my children how to see plants and how to paint them, and she loved flowers and color.