The death of summer has me desolate.

Verdure goes gold, then turns  to tinder on the ground;
warm-weather birds have blown away
with the winds of autumn.

I have put my dear friends to bed—
sheared off their heads and abandoned them
to their sleep.

The first snow falls, leaving me cold;
a crow’s call cracks the sound
of silence.

Winter creeps in.

I have no illusions;  I am housebound,
until spring comes back.

Kathleen Mortensen © 2016


Otra decima (and some digging in the past)

If anyone’s wondering what’s happened to me, the answer is:!  Thanks to the Sepia Saturday phenomenon, I’ve been drawn into the magical, amazing and addictive (not to mention pricey) world of genealogy.  I’ve spent the last few days delving into my family history (at least on my mother’s side — my father’s is a huge gaping hole at the minute, since my grandfather and grandmother cannot be found anywhere in the records I’ve searched so far).  It turns out, that on my mother’s side through the matriarchal line, I am the descendant of a Micmac Indian chief and a great, long line of French-Canadians.  On the patriarchal side, I’m mostly Scots (still working on them).
The good news is, my mother has discovered a couple of missing photos of her father’s father’s family and I will have access to them for this weekend’s SS post.  (My research has filled in the blanks on their names and ages. Yes!)
This has provided a well-needed respite from the close working with my poetry to get my book manuscript ready for publishing.  I’ve had to allow for a bit of a delay since Kevin is my format-expert and editor and he’s tied up with three tax returns that are due at the end of the month. My goal for actual availability of the book is May 31. (Fingers crossed!)
Yesterday, I had a very nice comment from Terresa Wellborn of The Chocolate Chip Waffle blog on my Totemic poem (below).  She invited me to participate in a Spring-themed poetry contest and I had this poem (decima) on a scrap of paper from where I had been working with it a couple of weeks ago.  Hope you like it!


I hear the robin, sweet and strong;
Early, he comes, each morning—
Sending out his cheery warning.
Sweet, it repeats, so loud and long;
I measure time by sunrise song,
That comes as I lie in my bed;
Its echoes float high, overhead.
Fast as it comes, it is finished;
The signal of spring, undiminished;
How many more songs ’til I’m dead?

Kat Mortensen©2010 Protected by Copyscape DMCA Takedown Notice Checker

My world and welcome to it!

Today I ventured out for a walk into town.  I had a very important parcel to mail and the weather was gorgeous, so I put on my running shoes, grabbed my purse and my camera and headed off.  I thought you all might enjoy a little trip through my neighbourhood and into town.

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It was so nice to finally see some colour breaking through the dry ground and dead grass in some of the neighbours’ yards.

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Here’s a look up my street from the bottom.  You can’t see my house because it’s around the bend to the right way at the top of the street.

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The favoured destination of many a Canadian – Tim Horton’s.  Here you can get what some think is the best coffee anywhere and their donuts, muffins and bagels are pretty good too.  There’s a “Timmies” just about every mile you go in the city!  My usual fare is either a steeped tea and a banana nut muffin, or a black coffee with a multigrain bagel – lightly toasted and spread with lite strawberry cream cheese (easy on the cheese).  Surprisingly, although this TH is just down the road, we mostly hit the other ones around town when we’re on the go.

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Around the corner a ways, you’ll find this combination of “services”. I find it a tad ironic.

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I couldn’t resist this shot, because the empty billboard reminded me of a jail-cell. Juxtaposed with the wedding attire, it was too good to miss!

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I’m so glad those days are over!  (I’d be a little uncomfortable with an orthodontist by this name, wouldn’t you?)

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If I ever decide to get a tattoo, you’ll be the first to know!  What would you have as a tattoo? I think I’d go for a Celtic Cross (tiny) or maybe “Kat” in a Gaelic font. What do you think?

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“Mummy, I lost my dummy!”

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Here’s where I mailed my package.  They tried to upsell me to a pack of stamps or some Olympic coins, but I wasn’t buyin’ them.

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Here’s one for “Sparky” and any other of you bike fans.

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A few of my neighbours lost their heads.

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Who do we have here in the window?

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Donkey day is coming June 14th. Hooray!  I love donkeys!

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Duke Street – funky shops and a vegetarian cafe. My mom lives in behind at “The Regency” – swanky name, huh?

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This street is packed with churches.   I’m just around the corner from “The Regency” now.

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Here’s the local courthouse across from Mom’s building.  See that car on the right? If you kept going in the same direction for about 3 minutes, you’d be back at my street again.

Thanks for tagging along!


Dedicated to all who wait for Spring


Photo courtesy of Flickr

Winter’s Wake

Ice spikes drip, at torture pace,

Pine-clumps plunge from upper place,

Minefield yard of scrap and scree;

More flurries on the way, I see.

Mounds of snow, rock-hard with ice,

Will not be moved, for trying– twice,

Porch is heaped with husks of seed;

Here nature’s hungry come to feed.

Rusty vines of leaves entangle,

Redbud’s rangy fingers dangle,

Limp limbs droop where once they bore,

Flakes, water-logged that lag no more.

Frozen fringes silent creep,

Behind the bushes March hares sleep,

The corvine crew morosely caws,

As winter hedges, hems and haws.

Kathleen Mortensen©2008

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