Author: Cecilia Mary Gunther
-
Endings
The wheat has been harvested and my fields have lost their romance. The wheat has gone. It was here – so beautiful and now harvested and collected and gone to be tested for all manner of things before the women at the Mill turn it into food. Though the harvest itself holds a certain terminal…
-
Maybe, just pictures today? Storms everywhere. Globally. Locally. In the Sky. In my Heart. The Pig Garden. The four took all day to wander across from their spring garden to their summer garden. There is so much foliage in there we may not see them again for some time. I love my pig gardens. There…
-
SITTING DUCK
Actually three sitting ducks. One beside the front steps, One in the woodpile, And one in the barn ( in the dark ). I saw her, she hissed at me from the gloom – but it was too dark for a picture. I bet there are more sitting hidden in the trees but we must…
-
THE LIGHT?
You know how last time I wrote you a letter, I was talking about how I felt I was coming out of a long shambly walk down a long dark tunnel. Now I am standing out in the light at the end of my tunnel blinking in the flash of an incredible sea change of…
-
The Tunnel
I have been trying to write to you for weeks but every time I reread the words I wrote they seem unhelpful, foreign even. Written by a sad person. But here you are – a bunch of unrelated beginnings: I don’t know which days I wrote them: Do you feel like you have been living…
The Kitchen's Garden 