has been for sale for some time, as you have seen. The maintenance and ongoing development to keep our non-profit and idealistic platform for contemporary art running and safe from hackers etc. costs money that is no longer there. Because of small investments that are necessary now and the running costs, we will have to shut down with a heavy heart at the beginning of summer on June 21.
So many years
In my mother's garden
Were spent by her
Thinning the iris
Then all of us
Praised the blooms
In springtime.
For several years now
She has forgotten
Her need to tend
Her flowers.
Now the plants
Have moved beyond
Their careful borders.
A disarray of green
From seeds
Fallen from her bird feeder.
Strange twists
And shoots from
From the treasured
Birds fascination
Of mother as
She stares through
A darkened pane.
I have only held on
For so long because
Because
Because there have
Always been trees
In the way
And here I am
Deep rooted.
A woman I liked very much
Became afraid to leave
Her house.
I was always out
Drinking sunshine
With a bit too much
Laughter.
It was there, you know,
When the trees
Grew over the road.
Not inhaled
Not even lit.
Voids in the day
Like a step down
To a riser
That is not there.
Confused uncertainty
Leaves my pocket
More space
With the lighter
Gone.
Inhale for me.
Exhale through your nose.
My nose whistles a bit
And my mind wanders.
But, there is the road -
Long asphalt
Like contentment,
Rolls out over
Prairie hills
Between singular trees.
A return of some
Luxury
Left me much too
Aware of my mouth
And how it breathes.
