I Could Walk Into That Painting
Evening At Kuerners, Andrew Wyeth

At lastlight,
First frost in the air.
Apples pulled from lower limbs along the way
Rub shiny, red and green in my pockets.

When I look behind me, I whistle.
Slow to a walk when I see our lighted windows,
Follow the spilling light to the glassy run
Below the house. Inside,

A piano is played with hesitant fingers...
Clara Schumann seeps through
Stucco to accompany the evening peepers.
Perhaps inside I'll know warmth

At the wooden table, and pepperpot broth.
A lanky dog named Rattler
Will lie against my feet as I tell my day
To the listeners in the kitchen.

We might even look out the window at how light
Falls on the sluiceway and dun-colored slope,
How the fallen leaf moon
Lights up our life.

by Barbary Chaapel

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Bouquets for Estuary

      "Barbary Chaapel's second collection of poetry is fully as rewarding as her first. Covering a greater variety of subject matter, it is rich with the same inspired and inspiring imagery and metaphor. Another outstanding feature of Chaapel's work is her endings, as in "Song of Sago." Most important, anyone who has experienced disappointment and tragedy and is now looking for hope will find it in Estuary."...

Dr. Barbara Smith
author of Demonstrative Pronouns

About Estuary

      Herein, find my intentionally transparent world. Without guile I share my journey with you, from the tear that drops into the small mountain stream trembling, tumbling to the mouth of the sea: Estuary.

      The thing is, I don't want ever to look back at this work and think to myself, I could have been more honest. I want to triumph over the quiet withholding of a lifetime.

      May you recognize my words...