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Whirlpool ©2009 by Janet Brugos
 water wets my whistle 
salts my tears  
runs down the panes of windows 
 courses through my bloodstream
 floats in my eye 
flows down the planes of my face
quenches my thirst
cleanses my body
nourishes my being

 the color of water appears 
clear in the liquid we drink
white in rushing rivers 
green in still waters 
red in lakes reflecting sunsets 
deep blue in global seas

 rain drop, snowflake, puddle, pond, 
lake, geyser, glacier, 
iceberg, spring, stream, river, 
waterfall, whirlpool, ocean

 water surrounds us in the womb  
 comforts us in a bath  
cleanses our senses
nourishes our beings

taste, feel, smell, hear and see water

wonderful water wanders the world 
willfully wild or carefully constrained

by Janet Brugos 2009
revised 2020
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2020 Masks

2020 Masks

days of yore
on the radio
that masked man
followed by
the thunder of hoof beats.
now, no hoof beats
thumping heart beats
hiding behind that paper mask
that medical grade surgical mask
or that piece of fashion mask

Are we in
an annual, biennial or dreaded perennial
mask year

mask as a disguise
playful or sinister
intention is prevention
hiding droplets
to protect others

Instagram search
finds many masks
funny serious gorgeous
or mundane

a zebra mask
a leopard mask
but no ant eater
or elephant masks.

masks do little
to hide our pain.

by Janet Brugos


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Ball One

Sun is a ball. Mixed Media Art.
Sun is a ball. Detail from “Shoe Trees on a Hillside” ©2015

Was it you who threw out the first ball?

I caught the ball and ran with it.

Was it a tennis ball, a hand ball, a low ball or

A high ball? At the black and white ball?

Well, it certainly wasn’t a foul ball.

Great balls of fire, it was a bowling ball.

How is that for heavy handed ball?

Well it was certainly  NOT a foot ball.

Oh, the many balls I have known:

A golf ball, a cricket ball, a soccer ball.

Does that ball hurt?

She has balls!  Now what kinds of balls are those?

Are they hanging balls, sliding balls, fast balls?

Now that is a ball of a different color.

Or was that a horse?  What is a horse doing at a ballpark?

Take a swing at that ball!

I was inspired to do this post after reading my daughter Alejna’s post recently. 

I recommend it.

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Day 10: Kimbark Chronicles, The Dining Room

Dining Room 1940s
Dining Room 1940s

The Dining Room

The dining room was the hub of activity for our house. Big dinners were everyday occurrences.

By this time Ted and Jean Bloch had arrived to stay two weeks–that was a month ago.  Jean and my mother worked things out well in the kitchen.  I loved being in the kitchen with them as they planned the shopping list along with the ration stamps.  My job was to set the table.  It was to be for 8 this evening.

It was a usual family dinner except this time it was Thanksgiving.  We all were gathered round the long dining room table.

A man walked into the dining room, “Good evening, It looks like a delicious meal.”  He said.

“Happy Thanksgiving.” my father replied.

The man walked around the table checking out the turkey, vegetables and olives.  As he walked by me, he put his hand under my chin and raised my face to look at him.  He did the same thing with my brother.

“Who was that?” Ted asked.

“That was Mr. Boyer.  He comes to see Miss Peabody who is currently staying in the third floor apartment.” My mother explained.

My father commented, “When we bought the house we agreed to let the previous owner, Mrs. Nordstrom use the third floor apartment for a period of five years whenever she came into town. She asked us later if her friend, Miss Peabody could stay there for a while.”

“We can’t go up the stairs to the third floor.  That is off-limits.”  I added.

Mother continued, “We don’t know when they are here and it is not very often.  It is only Miss Peabody’s gentleman friend who feels free to come into the dining room.  We don’t really mind.”

When dessert came it was that wonderful chocolate cake that mother made with the icing my brother and I liked so much. I the habit of taking off the icing to save it and eat it last.

“Jannie, you should eat the cake and the icing together.” My father requested.

“But, Daddy.” I said as my father reached over to take the icing off my plate and eat it himself.

“Oh well,” I thought.  “I know where the cake lives after the meal.  Everyone in the family would stop by the pantry, take off the lid that covered the cake, cut a sliver of a slice and then put the lid back on.”

I started thinking after the meal was over about how much I liked the dining room.  It was a room full of surprises.  One time I came in while my parents were having a party in the living room. The dining room was dark.  I saw a man lying under the buffet.  When I asked my mother she told me that was Buster, a friend of the family.  He was fine.  He was just tired and was taking a nap and that I should not wake him up.

Then there was the time my father shouted, “Look at those zebras in the back yard.”

Tommy and I raced to the window and saw nothing.

“April Fool.” My father replied.

Sometimes when my mother had really big parties, we put another table next to the regular one. Then put a really long table-cloth over both of them so it looked like one long table.  She had me put little cards with people’s names on them at all the places.  It was like this: one family person, one guest person, one family person, one guest person.  My mother always sat at the end of the table that was near the pantry door.  My father sat at the other end near the windows where there were no zebras outside.



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Day 8: Entrances and Exits


I fly through today to tomorrow.

Do entrances /exits

Take on special meaning?

Way in / way out

L’entrée / la sortie

Departure / Arrival

Depart / Arrivée

The first time

You enter a building,

A room,

A relationship Or a country You pause.

That moment of entrance

burns your senses.

Eyes find focus.

Ears hear symphonies.

Touch smooths out difference.

That moment of exit

Enables A Dream To Linger And Inspire.


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Day 7: Give and Take, Take 1


“Here, take this.”
“No, you take that.”
“Are you going to give up?”
“Are you going to take up?”
“Take up what?
“Take up the cause?”
“What Cause?”
“What matters?”
“What matters to you or what matters to me?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Well, it is not clear. Is this for you or is this for me?”
“I give up. I am gone.”
“Is that gone girl?”
“I am not a girl. I am a woman.”
“Whose woman are you?”
“I am my own woman. Whose man are you?”
“Why, honey. I am your man.”
“Do opposites attract?”
“Look at us.”

“I want the last word.”


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Day 5: Fragments Flying in the Wind

Oh, it has fallen right in that pile of wet leaves. It’s fragments of some old paper. Maybe tissue paper. Whose is it?

Wait, it is a letter from Christmas past. No, that is not possible. Pasts don’t write letters. But letters write pasts.

Some of the words are obliterated. . . .  It looks like. . . .

Dear Santa

My mommy is so sad. Can you bring her a cuddly, soft toy? So she does not have to sleep all by herself in that big bed. Maybe a fish would be good.

Daddy liked to fish but now Daddy is gone. I don’t know where Daddy has gone but Mommy says he is never coming back. She says he is in a better place like over the rainbow.

Thank you Santa. I have been an extra good girl ever since Daddy flew over the rainbow.  Is that where you live Santa?

I hope you found the brownies I left.

From Millie with the long brown pigtails.

I wonder what time zone this was from?  Who is or was Millie.  I guess I will have to imagine her life.


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One Word at a Time

Simple words.

Not hard to find.

What makes them

Come to mind?

Mind you head.

Foot the bill.

Check it over.

Over my head.

Hand it over.


Over there.

There comes a day.

Is that food

For thought?

Lend me your ears.

Mine are pierced.

Your lips have a ring.

Now that has a ring to it.

But what of your toes?

Toast is good

For the first

Meal of the day.

Sun’s up.

Got to run.

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On the Flight of an Angel

On the flight of an angel.

How high do they fly?

Sunrise on the Ganges with bird in flight
Sunrise on the Ganges with bird in flight

Birds fly into the sky.

Plates fly in Greek Tavernas.

Flight of the Bumble Bee.

Is pie in the sky a flight?

Butterflies fly over

Iguassu Falls.

Butterflies at Iguassu #38 of 50
Butterflies at Iguassu #38 of 50