breathe in, breathe out

My eyes slide open
   and I pause,
      patiently listening
to the dark,
   waiting to learn
      what pulled me
out of sleep
   and into this hushed bedroom
      at midnight.

These used to be my moments
   of fight or flight,
      adrenaline kick starting
as I strained to catch
   a sound invading
      our home,
   the peace of mind
      in my blanket cocoon.

Even the buzz of
   a streetlight
      could stop my heart.

All these years later
   it is simply an
an hour better left to
   kids out clubbing
      or New Year's Eve.
I quietly breathe
   and focus on the world
      around me.

              - ljh 2/8/17


Sunday Snapshot: roaming free


Kauai, Hawaii

The roosters roam free near Spouting Horn,
ignoring tourists who come to gawk
and take endless pictures
of the ocean.
They peck the ground patiently,
intent on lunch,
oblivious to children's feet
thundering past
with cries of "Careful!"
in the air.
Women open their stalls nearby,
setting up wares
while reckless visitors
lean too far over the fence,
craning their necks to catch
a single glimpse
of water flying
fifty feet high.
They come to see spectacular beauty
but rush right past
the gorgeous creatures
at their feet.

- ljh 2/1/17

nature divided

The tree stands
fresh green leaves
gracing the base
while a deep red
throwing autumn hues
onto a powder blue
We have only days
until our tree
surrenders to the fall
and dons a burgundy robe
before standing bare,
exposed to the elements,
biding its time
until spring returns
to warm its branches.

– ljh  10/26/16

Sunday Snapshot flipped: I see you


I see you.

Still as a mouse

caught in a cat’s gaze,

barely breathing,

as if thinking yourself

out of existence

could protect you from

the pounce.

I see you

watching, waiting,

seeing the world

pass you by

on your perch,

wondering if those hurried steps

would slow even a bit

to witness your


I see you.

-ljh  11/6/16

Sunday Snapshot: I see you


Here I stand,

silent as the trees

on a still summer day,

watching and waiting.

I see you

glued to your phone,

rushing through your day

as if time would stop

if you took even a

moment’s pause.

Then I see you


as your child

laces her fingers

through yours,

holding on tight

while you move through the crowds.

You stoop to tie her shoe

and give her a hug

before moving on.

I see you.

-ljh  11/5/16

blue heron rising


He lands softly across the lake,
his reflection rippling gently
in September waters,
then slowly begins to stalk his prey
in the shallows.
Wading in and out of the light,
under low lying branches
and past grassy slopes,
hunting for lunch
with silent, steady steps.
Boats thunder by, music blaring,
and yet he stands,
still as a sentry at the castle gate.
There is quiet in the air,
a waiting filled with anticipation.
We hold our breath and watch
as the blue heron rises.

– ljh  9/24/16


in sand and sea

I see you here
in sand and sea...
soft grains, as warm as July's honey,
shifting under my feet
while you sway to the pull
of the earth.
You envelope me
like a newborn's swaddling blanket,
gently holding me together
while I break apart.
I fall into the blue -
    your eyes, the waves, a razor thin horizon -
and am stilled
by the power
of your presence.
It is forever yet it's only an instant
before I'm watching you
walk the shoreline,
steady and strong in the surf.
My tears hide
beneath a smile
as I count the blues
in the water.

- ljh 9/1/16