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Icicled with poem, Centered

October 24th, 2017

Icicled with poem, Centered

Poem, Centered, Copyright 2003 Ann Horn.
All rights purchased and reserved 2003
by The Christian Century Foundation
and published in The Christian Century,
January 27. 2004.

Photo, Icicled, Copyright 2009 Ann Horn
is in my winter gallery at
ann-horn.artistwebsites.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.













CENTERED

Shining,
an icicle
looses water
from a
corner of
the garage,

hallowing
puddled snow
below. A

sparrow
plunges in,
cold-showers
utterly
idle
starlings�

paying no
mind to wind�s
raw gusts.

Red Maple After Rain with poem, Lament for a Dead Ash

October 24th, 2017

Red Maple After Rain with poem, Lament for a Dead Ash

Poem "Lament for a Dead Ash," Copyright 2003 Ann Horn,
published Vol. VII, The Driftwood Review.

Photo "Red Maple After Rain," Copyright 2004 Ann Horn
is in my rainy day and leaf galleries at
ann-horn.artistwebsites.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.











LAMENT FOR A DEAD ASH

Almost severed
with a swift
cut of
chain saw,

muscled down
by four
burly men,

the dead ash
crashes
onto my yard.

Thirty years'
growth

ground and
hauled away in
a half-hour

opens an
empty window.


Some seven years ago I bought this red maple tree as a sapling small enough to bring home from the nursery in my little red car. Its pot stood on the floor between the front seat and the glove compartment.

Now it is mid June 2010, and I am sad to say that, after growing and thriving for some seven years. not one leaf has appeared on its branches. All that remains as I look from my front window is this photo, "Red Maple After Rain," and my poem about the demise of the tree it replaced.

Painting the Past, photo and poem

October 24th, 2017

Painting the Past, photo and poem

Poem "Painting the Past" Copyright 2004 Ann Horn.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Photo "Painting the Past" Copyright 2004 Ann Horn
is in my Americana and retrospective galleries
at ann-horn.websites.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
















PAINTING THE PAST

Shaded by
a large
umbrella,
he mixes
his palette,

fills outlines
of shops
sketched
on an old
brick wall.

Another era
unfolds, as

Main Street
looks both
ways and
becomes
tomorrow.

Autumn Oak with poem, Remnant

October 24th, 2017

Autumn Oak with poem, Remnant

Poem "Remnant" Copyright 1990 Ann Horn.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Photo "Autumn Oak" Copyright 2007 Ann Horn
is in my autumn and leaf galleries at
ann-horn.artistwebsites.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
















REMNANT

A scant wind hushes
splendor's remnant�
ancestral oak
twisted

leaves of
brittle umber
suspended in
shiny silence

sure of stripping,
future glory.





Weeping with poem, Willows

October 24th, 2017

Weeping with poem, Willows

Poem "Willows" Copyright 1996 Ann Horn.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Photo "Weeping" Copyright 2010 Ann Horn
is in my nature and natural abstract galleries
at ann-horn.artistwebsites.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.











WILLOWS

Willows sigh, in
late afternoon sun
brush water�s edge,

as if to sweep
by chance,
or by design,

deep shadow
from yet another
spectacle of glory.





Glistening Stones Awash with poem, Stones

October 24th, 2017

Glistening Stones Awash with poem, Stones

Poem "Stones," Copyright 1990 Ann Horn,
published March 1992 in Perspectives.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Photo "Glistening Stones Awash"
Copyright 2004 Ann Horn is in my seascape
and Great Lakes galleries at
ann-horn.artistwebsites.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.









STONES

Mottled black,
rust-red and cream,
worn smooth by
wave-caps
boisterous in
their rushing,
rocks of granite
lie stolid on
lake's sandy rim,
desolate in
late winter's
stubborn clasp

while we,
with stinging faces,
icy hands,
hasten inside...
leaving none
but stones
to cry
God's praise.



Willows with poem, Remembered

October 24th, 2017

Willows with poem, Remembered

Poem "Remembered" Copyright 1986 Ann Horn.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Photo "Willows" Copyright 2011 Ann Horn
is in my natural abstract and nature galleries
at ann-horn.artistwebsites.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.











REMEMBERED

A world away
the silence weeps−
weeps, then listens
to laughter remembered,
echoes of hopes shared,
the pulse of hearts
together attuned to God.

A world away
the silence weeps−
in joy hears singing stars.

Mountain Stream with poem, Inkling

October 24th, 2017

Mountain Stream with poem, Inkling

Poem "Inkling" Copyright 2000 Ann Horn.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.


Photo "Mountain Stream"
Copyright 2006 Ann Horn is In my
landscape and nature galleries
at ann-horn.artistwebsites.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.














INKLING

My life seems
a dream
she whispers

ninety-five years
like yesterday

nearly swept
away with a
sigh, an

inkling that
age all along
is subsumed

in a timeless
stream.



Several days ago, when I first thought of placing the image, "Forest Stream," in juxtaposition with my poem, "Inkling," I thought it would be an imperfect match at best. But on reflection, I began to see new ways in which the photo, taken four years ago in Washington's Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, illustrate and enhance the meaning of the poem, which was written six years prior.

The story behind the poem: I had visited an elderly friend in the hospital. Very softly she said, "My life seems a dream." Her words, always gentle and ever gracious, speak to me still.

Artful Snowfall with poem, Aflame

October 24th, 2017

Artful Snowfall with poem, Aflame

Poem "Aflame" Copyright 2006 Ann Horn.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Photo, "Artful Snowfall"
Copyright 2010 Ann Horn is in my
natural abstract and winter galleries
at ann-horn.artistwebsites.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.















AFLAME

Anger
smolders,
crackles,

singes
the edges
of my soul,

scorching,
scarring,

till
flamed
in Spirit�s

snow white
heat.



Forest Glow with poem, Reflection

October 24th, 2017

Poem "Reflection" Copyright 2001 Ann Horn.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Photo "Forest Glow"
Copyright 2007 Ann Horn is in my
autumn and landscape galleries
at ann-horn.artistwebsites.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.















REFLECTION

Deep in a
quiet cove
the sun slips
in and out
of clouds as
shadows wing.

Bared oaks
stand watch,
their watery
counterparts
trembling in
sudden wind,

like me,
stirred to
fresh reflection.


 

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