Sunday, October 12, 2014

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Shabby (and I like it.)

Shabby (and I like it.)

I peel off the chic and fancy garments adorning me on my day out  
(you know, the ‘dress-up’ type items of apparel that are posh 
enough to put on the dog!) My black pants 
(now amply decorated with clumps of prolific long white collie dog hair 
that has ‘attached’ only moments after my being home) 
and my floral, wispy blouse come off! I need my clogs, 
my shabby jeans and my loose, comfy cotton. 
The truth of it is, I prefer this ultra-shabby, sloppy, slipshod, 
uneven and mostly worn-out look above all else. 
Perhaps I can travel ‘incognito,’ as a bum or as 
a tramp named “Rose” or “Delilah” or “Rita.” 
I can pass myself off as someone 'too poor to have an opinion 
that would be considered.' I wish I could travel about as this…
and never have to dress up. And I will most likely come back 
in a second life as a frumpy old scarecrow 
left standing in a field with 
only the brave birds as my faithful friends.  

lg :-)

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Silver Woman

Asheville (NC) Mime

This wonderfully amazing woman was one of my all time favorite subjects 
to photograph. Take a good look at the fabric of her dress, the veins 
and wrinkles on her skin, her buttons...Her face is so smooth and beautiful!
People amaze me! What a delightful thing it was to encounter her in 
Asheville, North Carolina one hot summer afternoon. :-)

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Two best date.

First Visitation of a Hummingbird in Spring

(This has been hard! 
We are still trying diligently, 
to bring you a really good shot, here.) 

Monday, May 12, 2014


until you get the prize.

These are (just) two of about 70+ photos we took of the first hummingbirds to arrive last week. For whatever reason, we did not get good result! Study the first photo (with me.) Now why (oh why!) is the bird feeder absolutely crystal clear in this shot and the hummingbird (except its beak) is an absolute blurrrrr of motion?!! Look at the contrast! This is an amazing shot! (My favorite!!) :-)

The second shot is the best photo (of too many, I might add.) Perhaps the camera would simply not cooperate! Or is it that this bird...was as lightening? (I've seen better shots of lightening, I might add.) 

Hence, we have dubbed this bird, "Lightening Bolt." 

We will persevere to bring you better, clearer shots (as the summer progresses as we have many hummingbird visitors...)  


Wednesday, May 7, 2014

(My) Childhood Shoes

(My) Childhood Shoes

I fancied myself free
I danced a waltz tonight
I danced a polka 123-123
I spun on rose petals and pressed on bike pedals
I ran across the bridge cement and metal
bang-bang to my secret place where silver fishes lie waiting
and streetlights play games that are highlights

I skid across the inclined face of the moon
slippery like cheeses down to Natti’s Gap
I plodded along walls that wall in the strong cities
I shook the dust off myself after being made fun of
I had holes
ran a mile
and then I ran another

I felt the cool clay of the cavern-cave
and splashed through the shallow icy water slip-sliding
over rocks to get stuck deep in Lake Michigan’s mud
I kicked up my heels
kicked the cat
and then I jumped over the house.

© Karen Powell

Monday, April 28, 2014

Morning Prayer

Morning Prayer

Be in my fanciful meanderings

Be in my midnight glide on a silver moon beam carpet slide
up and up I slip across the black tree fingers of the very next pine lined ridge
Up and up I sail to my friend
the white hot crescent 
cool night moon

Be in the spine of my cat as I perch myself
upon the very tip of the last long black prick hair 
on his slow curling twitch-twitch tail 
and as I find myself in the dull glint
of his slow moving yellow eyes
open wide
and watching

Be in the hint of gleaming light as it peek-peeks
out from behind 
my five year companion the Looking Glass Tree branch 
as it plays its own game with me
yes my game an early morning game
trying as it would to cover up my (other) sweet friend
my white hot bright morning star
yes my morning
star of the east
my own yes my very own
rising up game 
that I play

Be in the ill-tempered Appalachian wind
as it rises and it builds
piling up full out on the ridges below
and then letting loose like a mini swarm of sometimes ill-intentioned
climbing well weighted down Mack trucks
They race-roar their engines
steady they go
up and up to reach the summit
of this my fair mountain—
causing the dog to turn her head
and me to brace my body

Be in the folds of his gray-white beard
that he strokes
then slowly  
again as he lies pressed down
on his sickbed
where he waits patiently
for a touch from
sweet one Jesus
and the medication
Be with the man
my man
husband of more than 20 years
alone in the next shade
of an off white room 

© Karen Powell

Tuesday, April 22, 2014


My husband saw the FIRST hummingbird at the feeder today 
(April 22nd, 2014.) 
This is a most 'sure' sign of impending spring!! 
(I am so glad to have the little guys back.) :-)
These photos are from last summer, however, 
as we have yet to get the feeder up and running! 
(I rather randomly chose some photos from the archives. 
Some are quite good, I was surprised to find.)

I'm excited, as you can tell.
Although they are small, 
they live a dramatic lifestyle!
As these photos show, 
they are such lovely and fierce little creatures... 

Thursday, April 3, 2014

(On) Family and Marriage


(On) Marriage
(by K. Annie Powell)

Butter and bread
butter and bread
go together

Honey and tea
honey and tea
are a complement to one another

You and me
you and me
fit together through and through

Friday, March 28, 2014

'Little Birdie'

Little Birdie

I don’t want this poem crafted
with stanzas
or to end with a shocking ‘surprise’

Most certainly I do not want this poem to gob-smack
you right in between your eyes

I want this poem to be like a muzzle that sneaks up behind for a little cuddle 
I want this poem to be soft, feathery, and brown
I want this poem to grow up right from the ground
I want this poem to be lighter than air
I want this poem to float everywhere
I want this poem to sing a sweet little song
I want this poem to just happen along
I want this poem to vanish as you turn your head
I want this poem to greet you as you rise up from your bed
I want this poem to fly fly away 
and to come back at the end of the day 
I want this poem to give you a thrill
I want this poem to meet you over there on the hill
and if you're in doubt the same time next year
I want this poem to reappear.

© Karen Ann Powell

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

"How Dark is the Night?"

How dark is the night
when your baby boy
has left you?
Lying-he lies
stretched full out
with her by his side
alone on a nubby white bed.
Their candle-
it seems 
all but snuffed 
full out
I cannot comprehend
no warmth in his small fingers
they curl up with the mourners
spread apart in the room adjacent
filled with grief stricken silence 
broken up by her sobs
I am 20…
(I am 20)
How dark is the night?

How dark is the night?
A mother sits looking
her head turned aside
leaving her baby to slip
slowly he slides...
downward but looking up 
grimy is the Appalachian 
black water tendrils
as inward they glide along the curve of his skull 
Confused is 
the look 
as farther he sinks
Black water, you lie!
You are a liar
There is no truth in you
How dark is the night?

How dark is the night?
Must I walk these halls alone
with my vision obscured
banging my shins broken now bleeding 
Once vital the helper-now helped
I scratch my head asking
over I turn this
one thing
I ask
How dark is the night?

© Karen Powell

Tuesday, February 18, 2014


(On) Traveling

(an assignment)

I once strolled on the beaches of Florida’s gulf coast. I was a sun gazer. I raised my son near the Florida Keys.  He was little then and woke up after a long car ride to being set down at night on the shore smack dab in the warm waves of the Atlantic. We swam in the oh so warm waters of Bahia Honda and bathed ourselves in sun and in sand. We delighted in the sea creatures of all kinds-the blue octopus and the large human colored turtle that popped up to the surface and made me jump. Nate was small then and full of the bajeebers! He was a handful. When he traveled, I traveled.

Natalie’s birth lead us back to the other coast. She was tiny then-just 8 weeks old and a real live beautiful baby. My days were filled with the upkeep of all things pertaining to our lives. Traveling to shop, traveling to transport, and happy then just to be home. School consumed our lives (on all levels…) And when they traveled, I traveled.

As a girl I often traveled alone, on my bike, on roller skates around a 3 block radius, and farther as I got older—to the skate park in the deep cold of winter. I once traveled across Lake Michigan on the Milwaukee Clipper with my Aunt. When I tell her now, this is how and when I ‘got the traveling bug’ she says “I don’t remember that.”

I once traveled across the Atlantic to Paris. Vive la France! I did a short term Mission trip. I sat with friends in Barcelona and waved a teary good-by to a friend from a train (much like in the movies…) I remember that she made a puppet dance and wave with a Kleenex that she had in her hand. Her name was Sara Silva. She was Portuguese. I never saw her again. Shortly after this, in 88, I was filled with romantic notions and the passionate hope of a young woman in love. And he was hoping I would come back. Keith and I (my husband) have traveled together now for almost 25 years. We are traveling companions, I would say. We love to travel. We travel mostly on the weekends, now.

After years and years of stifling hot sun (enough to bake the brain) we catapulted ourselves from the Florida heat, sun and sand to the leafed out green Appalachian Mountains (that we now call home.) This might have been our biggest and our best trek yet—traveling from sea level to about 4000 feet! 

I have always loved to travel and for many years even thrived on it! I couldn’t stay put. I mean I wouldn’t stay put. After a few years in one spot I would again get restless and have the pressing need to move on, to see new things and to reorient myself. I suppose that in order to live I must learn some new things. And I’m happier for it. But I would say that as the years turn, there are now some days in my safe and secluded mountain home that my travels are confined to my dreaming, as I gaze at the red sun rising in the east over the treed mountain ridge.  

Yes, there are days now, in which my own children travel farther (and faster) from the nest than I do [as in daughter # 1's case (Jasper) as she is basking herself in the sun on the sand of Kauai, as I write this. Well done, here, my brave fellow traveler! Bravo sweet Jasper and family--now she is an adventurer!) ]

Our other fledgling fellow travelers (children) are still around us enough to report their travels back to us (which they gladly do, I am happy to say.) ‘Me and Father’ are on and off (but mostly on) keeping a watchful eye and a keen ear. You never know when there might be a rescue maneuver called for, and at that time we will be prepared to launch (or not, as in my case.) But launch we will nonetheless.


Thursday, February 13, 2014

Winter Storm

This is the look of our surroundings... 
(for you)
of the snowfall that accumulated here overnight. 

Come on along! :-)

What awesome beauty to behold awaits you. 
The snow seems to makes all things new.
It is a balmy 27 degrees outside (so don't be too terribly chilled on your journey.)

[We are supposed to get winds up to 40 mph (!) later today so 
I am most  happy and relieved :-) to capture the stillness and quiet beauty 
of the woods for you before the violent winds come... 
(which I will not be out in~ mind you!)]

The captions for the photos are as follows:
(from the top) 

Pristine Driveway Unaltered
The Way Down the Big Hill
Look to the Left
Snow-snow-snow (on tree)
Logging Path View
The Way Back Home
Ginger Looks Back
No Mountains to Be Found
Fence Line
Wooded Panorama 


(...snowed in until the plow comes.)

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Grandfather in February

This is nearby Grandfather Mountain as seen this past weekend. 
We actually had a clear, sunny day so I got a photo of the mountain that 
I thought was 'blog worthy' for you! Enjoy!
Can you see the features of Grandfather's face lying down?


Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Spring Promise

The silver stream of a broad moonlight ray 
kissed my cheek last night, as I laid upon my 
pillow. It crept in gently, first caressing the bed 
and then easing itself to my right ear 
where it whispered promises 
of bright red springtime
flowers with their sunny
button middles.

© Karen Powell

(lg) :)

Lois Nancy

This artwork is my mother's. It touches my heart.    (So gentle.)   A thoughtful depiction of something sweet, tiny, and cute.   'Wa...