Archive | January 2016


I was reminded of this by another’s blog this morning.

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A beautiful little crab apple was planted out back.

She bloomed bright pink each May.

Heavy, Spring snow broke her one year,

But, determined to keep her, I trimmed her back,

and she continued on,

though without as much enthusiasm as before.

I patted her trunk and whispered,”looking good,”

Each time I mowed the lawn.

Three springs ago, seven years after she broke, she bloomed with complete abandon;

Beautiful and bright on every branch.

I couldn’t help myself.

I took out my sheers to bring the blooms inside.

Just as I snipped that perfect branch, the entire top of the tree tipped towards me,

then fell to the lawn…

and the perfect tree died.

I’ve not replaced her.


rJo Herman   1/31/16


Once I climbed a hillside
up Cattle Creek;
sat on a dusty rock looking across to Mt. Sopris,
while a tiny bee buzzed ’round a purple mountain aster.
No photo.
No video.
Just the memory of that hot sun
burning my skin in that crisp, clean air.
How I wish you could feel it!
rJo Herman 1/30/16


Open the windows
Shut the door
What a strange age
Is sixty four

No prescribed routine
Not a single must do
No awful heart break
Nothing much ado

I have a good book
Emil Catt’s in his bed
Soup’s on the stove
Said all needing said

Sometimes I wonder
What’s coming my way
But just now I’m fine…
It’s a great old birthday!

rJo Herman   1/25/16