got out the new glass today

Poem in progress: Quick Widow

Quick Widow

In the darkest hour, you cry out,

“He’s dead!”

And commence that frantic chant,

fumbling for the light through a dreamy grog

to see the cat squinting up at us,

blinking, orange, and annoyed,

wondering why we disturb the still, smooth silk of his sleep.

Catching our breath,

we shuffle across the cold bathroom tiles and quietly try to laugh it off,

then scratch the fuzz between his ears

as we climb back into bed.

Your breaths deepen so quickly,

but I lay there all night long,

eyes wide open to the ceiling and arms crossed,

listening through the dark for your heartbeat.

HMMooreNiver

PSALM Retreat: Pause for Silence Through Art, Literature, & Music.

PSALM Retreat: Pause for Silence

Through Art, Literature, & Music.

January 20–22, 2008.

A time for retreat for those who love to create and hold an appreciation for the Arts, to focus on the Voice of God speaking through the Adirondack winter silence, and to learn to better reflect and express with our art. To watch, listen, experience the work of others, as well as sharing our own work. Camp Fowler has a unique stillness during the wintertime, known to refresh and revive the soul. We’ve found no better time for inspiration than to pack up in the dead of winter and head to the Adirondacks. Few artists like to force creativity, but we have found how essential it is to allow for creativity. Such times seldom come during the heat and hustle of our busy lives. This is a time to allow inspiration and creativity.

Musicians, storytellers, dancers, writers, painters, sculptors, as well as art appreciators in any capacity are welcome to take the time for pause and/or silence. During these few days, you are welcome to stay where it’s warm and cozy or venture out into the cold. If you go out, you can take a walk in the woods or on a frozen lake, or light a fire in the fireplace at Lakeside Lodge or the Chapel. You’ll be encouraged to spend your free time absorbing and/or creating. Use the time to create by yourself, work with others, or just wander in search of inspiration. It’s all time well spent.

Hosted at Camp Fowler in Speculator, New York, by Scott B. Adams, Heather Moore Niver, & Ryan Niver. For full details & registration info click here, or e-mail Heather at bloodorangepoet [at] gmail [dot] com

The silence

is immense,

and the heavens still hold

a million candles; nowhere

the familiar things:

stars, the moon,

the darkness we expect and nightly turn from. Trees

glitter like castles

of ribbons, the broad fields

smolder with light, a passing

creekbed lies

heaped with shining hills;

and though the questions

that have assailed us all day

remain—not a single

answer has been found—

walking out now

into the silence and the light ‘under the trees,

and through the fields,

feels like one.

—Mary Oliver, from “First Snow” in New & Selected Poems

We wasted no time getting into the holiday spirit

Snickerdoodles & Coal




















Some bakers are furrier than others.




















Peeking at the elusive baker.















Coal gets a bad rap! This stuff is tasty! I want some of this in MY stocking!

poem in progress: "In a Name"

In a Name

With a swish of white and two guttural utterings,

I did.

It’s all here in black and lace.

I’ve taken on a part of him, in body and name;

and after all these years I have this bold new tattoo:

Missus. Wife.

So I slip

into my strange and sudden new name

and find it far less comfortable

than that slyly mentioned negligée.

This should be no surprise.

Weeks earlier the two of us held hands in front of that cold, grey desk

as she sat with her ballpoint hovering over the blank.

She blinked and asked me, What is your name?

In a quick scribble,

a bright penflash across the page or a check,

here’s another inky red link between us at the end of my poems.

-HMMooreNiver

Nov. 2007