Every year on my birthday, I write a poem. This year, I decided to pair those words with a series of self-portraits. I’m so grateful for this space and for everyone who stops by to read. If any of these words or images resonate with you, please let me know—I’d love to hear from you. I’m so glad you’re here.
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Within my freckled chest lie sheets of watercolor paper over saturated and weak in the middle where I pressed too hard, bending into rainbow shapes. My hips
tell of this separation, of forty-nine years of horses, dogs, babies, troubles sat propped against bones, praying understanding will expose fragmented shadows, pockets of light. Tomorrow
another sunrise, pink fog touching horizon, hot coffee sweetened just right with words now said instead of swallowed whole. White-crested waves wake the birds, and the tide-pull aches
in every corner. See clouds reflect upon the sand, soft starfish clinging to crag-born rock, green flashes flinty like my eyes. Look for it, keep tracing thumb over back of hand. This time
A little note about self-portraits: I took these using my tripod and the timer on my camera. It did not occur to me (until I was done) to use Auto mode, so I kept trying to get in the focus point, hence the mixed results here. I think it works for this set, but if anyone has tips on self-portrait photography, I’d love to hear them.
These were taken with my Olympus E-M1 MarkII, using various lenses and edited with Lightroom Classic
birthday soon leaves begin their autumn dress eager wind rushes to receive only in dreams, summer remains —Neil, 2021
As many of you know, my dear friend and fellow blogger, Neil Reid, left us last November. Today would have been his 78th birthday. In honor of his kind heart and beautiful writing, I’d like to share with you two poems that will be in our poetry collection coming out next spring. The first one I wrote in honor of Neil, and the second is a favorite poem of his. He had a way of stringing together many different ideas to make you understand a deep truth. The photo above is of his beloved dragon statue which made it’s way to me. It’s magical, like him.
I miss him so much.
If you have a favorite Neil memory, please share it. Or, if his writing is new to you, read more and let me know what you think.
farewell
you are my moose four legs rooted in soil stars dancing in dark pupils sniffing for ripe plums running from wolves
you hand me threads wrapped around words unraveling big pills not wooden, real live boy feet kissing earth
you turn toward light living moss-covered verbs bowls of ocean water melt like sugar does children need sunlight
you wanted Neverland stories told under willows hunger turned into warmth forgetting ancient lost faces harvest moon dancing
you call me mother as in honey comb solid tree branches bend into dream blossoms nests, fragile eggs
you return home tail, fin, gills, scales shyness turned into galaxies unafraid of unknown shapes
love is a bucket we keep filling forever
—Bridgette
tell me words
when I can’t quite see you. unclear. obstructed. cluttered by stray thought. sound but no sight. although more than an arm’s length away. or, maybe it’s just smoke. fine bits of something recently burnt. a particulate suspended mass.
describe smoke
when I called, you came to me. only a few steps measured away, but it meant you had to get up, get out of bed. something in the dark looked awry. my height marked in pencil, ascending on the doorway jam. yours by a calming hand.
describe mother
she was always there. more than anyone. her. feeder of stray cats, any cats. hands that held no threats, not to anyone. a gingham dress. always. at least my always. memory bigger than me. mother of mother.
describe Janet
you come from out of the ground. you come from mountaintops. you come from high and grey and green and white and dark, clouds we say. one drop at a time still makes an ocean to waiting watchful acolytes. thirst. we drink.
describe water
check mark all of the above. a first beginning, eagerly. tell me all the stars. tell me all the worlds. tell me about me and about you. I’m all ears. I’ll bring the old cooking pot.
describe everything
you come from the ground when I call. you answer thirst. you bake bread. I comb your hair. cat’s asleep on the bed. you are rolling brown grass hills. my hand knows the curves. you are a bowl of soup. you are inside when outside is rain.
some say we return to stars light returning to source but I won’t say it to you as your child left too soon
instead I’ll focus on moonlight grief rippling across the land a sliver of silver beside Venus how small words feel now
once he pulled my giggly son across a green lawn over and over “you can stop anytime,” I said he shrugged, “but he’s so happy”
some say we will meet again across the rainbow bridge but I won’t say it to you as your boy left too soon *Dedicated to my aunty Nel and my cousin Josh. I wish I could be there today to celebrate his life with you. He will be greatly missed. I love you all.
within chest, flowers climb worry weavers, petals purple down drooping, up growing Valkyrie songs, deep humming no, deeper reach another another one more press fingers together pollen falls, tight places explodes out, spreads green shrugs we know nothing
Although it was our last session together, the full moon hid from me. It danced among the snow but wouldn’t sit still long enough to capture it. I looked for light and cold instead. Winter held within a single frame. Tell me, can you feel it?
Moon rises fair and fleece. Dark crow upon the fence outside. Night thought, like snow concealed. —Neil Reid
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I had high hopes and big plans for this final photo shoot, but the weather did not cooperate. I went out three different times but clouds and rain made it quite difficult. All the same, I hope you enjoyed this last installment and all 12 months of full moon photos. I learned a lot this year! Stay tuned for some big announcements in the coming weeks. I’ve got ideas for a new project and I’m still working on publishing my short story collection.
As always, all photos were taken by me with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW. Let me know if you have a favorite and have a wonderful week.
One final note. For those who knew Neil Reid, I’m sad to say he passed away earlier this month. I wrote a tribute to him on his blog today, but I wanted to honor him here too. I will miss his comments, letters, and beautiful poetry. He taught me a poem is a poem if you say it is and to love B I G. I will miss him.
am i road splitting two dry fields. crawling toward certain death. unnatural instincts. unknown breath. furry-mouthed bloodied brethren. witness destruction inside looking outside. who feels what. ask the real questions. dare me.
i am mother holding. hands clenched wheel turning. stop music. folding. heart races. breath lost. feelings aren’t truth. outside looking inside. where did you go. still here. rearview mirror sees wind. bright eyes. keep asking.
Bridgette Tales 