I used to think a photo of a cardinal in the winter was so cliché

Now I understand the symbolism in this breathtaking image

Resilience in the midst of the coldest days and nights

This brightly colored bird atop the barren branches

Screeches defiantly into the cold air

You cannot stop me, cold


Remembering Nature

I am remembering a time when

we didn’t need the internet

to tell us what to think

I am remembering a time when

nature provided everything

we would ever need

Now it seems we care

more about what is

on that little screen

than what is around

us and we can’t

separate truth

from fact

A Jones




Winsome Days

via Daily Prompt: Winsome

img_3652The most winsome I ever felt

was on my wedding day

Thirty years later I awakened

Not knowing where I was but

knowing where I wasn’t

I changed my course and

the winsome smile returned

I like to pretend

1 tara flower

Each day when I walk out my back door,

Taking the well-worn path to my garage, where my gray car sits

waiting to take me to my next destination,

Barely noticing the tender buds of the crocus

sprouting up around me,

I like to pretend

I like to pretend that I know what is going to happen that day,

I like to think that I am driving, rather than being driven

That I am accelerating, rather than being accelerated

Breathing, rather than being breathed

I like to pretend that I am working, rather than being worked

That I am choosing a path, rather than a path choosing me

I like to pretend that I am in the know,

Rather than the know being in me

I like to believe I am embracing life,

When in fact, life is embracing me.

Amy Jones



The Sofa

We sat on the U-shaped, tan suede sofa, peeling our skin back like cellophane
Convinced we could save each other from life’s next affront
Just by the right combination of quotations, passages, and prayers.
Who did we think we were? This group of women munching on peanut M&Ms,
Sipping from our bottles of Mike’s Hard Lemonade and chardonnay?
Were we God’s messengers and warriors, or just another gathering of fools?
Always aware of this lethal game of chance we had entered into
Never quite mindful of the fact that even if the cartridge came up empty
We would still feel the bullet’s sting, as it unloaded on the next person in the circle.
Ever conscious of the ancient shadows of all the others who had played before us
We gazed ahead at the delicate angels etched in the snow, side by side, covered in frost
Awaiting the next scintilla of sunshine to melt away the remnants of our crystallized tears.

by Amy Jones


When the Heart Breaks

There are the small disappointments in life,
Like not getting the presents you wanted for Christmas, or
The sting of an unintentionally thoughtless remark, or
The futility of trying to maintain an orderly house.
There are the bigger disappointments in life,
Like figuring out that our loved ones are only human, or
That after all this time on earth,
We still don’t know how to co-exist in peace.
And then there are the most unbearable, inexplicable,
Heart-wrenching and devastating disappointments.
Beyond one’s imagination or comprehension,
Inconsolable by any combination of words or gestures.

So immense is the pain my friend now bears, and
So great is this mother’s loss, that all I can do is weep for her
And save room on the couch when she is ready to join
Her Sisters of the Sofa once more.

In loving memory of Mark


First Drafts


First Drafts

Left-handed smudges moving across an empty sheet of paper

Tentative words emerging from the charcoal clouds of #2 lead

Unfiltered, unrehearsed thoughts forming on the page,

Un-beholden to rules that constrict and deprive free thought.

First drafts are like the brief moments after awakening

When dreams seem more real than reality

They are like peering through the clouds as the plane descends

And catching the first glimpse of land below

First drafts, like the colostrum from a mother’s breast

Are filled with nutrients that stimulate the budding soul.

By Amy Jones

Photo by JA

Photo by JA