Hiking companion, personal trainer, protector.
Eight was not enough years
and yet each day was a gift.
Joyful, intuitive, & energetic
in her zest to rush outside.
Her paw to my knee signaled needs.
At nap time she’d fall asleep on our feet.
Not always well-behaved,
we were her pack,
she was our guide.
For now we are lost.
– Deb Johnston
“Grief is love with nowhere to go” -Author Unknown
Barefoot beauties
flocked the breakwater
shared some grub
raised a ruckus
it’s spring—Wisconsin
-Deb Johnston
FIRST SNOW (Excerpt)
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
flitter like castles
of ribbons, the broad fields
smolder with light, a passing
creekbed lies
heaped with shining hills;
into the silence and the light
under the trees,
and through the fields,
feels like one. -Mary Oliver
When the waves roared ashore,
the wind carved a mama cat in ice.
With kittens four by four,
she kept each kit within her sight.
No cloud moved a muscle.
The sun didn’t blink.
The shore returned its sculpture.
New display forecasted this week.
-Deb Johnston
wings bring news of fall
take rest on blue gray water
pausing autumn’s end
—Deb Johnston
on the longest day
as the sun sets
stand on the shoreline
hold still in time
as the sun sets
let the waning light
hold minutes, seconds
strive for peace
in the waning light
stand at land’s end
in search of peace
on this longest day
—Deb Johnston
Hueless to me until thou come
As, till the Bee
Blossoms stand negative,
Touched to Conditions
By a Hum.
—Emily Dickinson
Sundown’s emberlight
on crimson, burgundy, gold—
bewitching beauty
—Deb Johnston
Mom loved to bake and would share her baked goods with family, friends and shut-ins. Her sweet rolls were well-known, but at Christmas, she mixed up a rich dough of dates, nuts, and raisins. When baked in a greased floured can, this dark brown bread could be sliced into a wheel that tasted so good.
My job was to take the date bread to the names on Mom’s list. My last drop off was to the three story brick home where the nuns lived. The Sisters taught at Sacred Heart School, which was my school. Once I left there, my bread route was done.
Back home, when I walked in the door, Mom was on the phone.
“Oh my! Okay. Bye.” I heard her say.
“Oh no!” She hung up the phone and sank down onto the straight-back chair.
“That was your Uncle George. He wants to know who’ll pay his dental bill,” she said. “This is so bad! I just found out there are pits in my date bread.”
Oh no was right. All I could think of was that I had just given the nuns bread with pits in it. Sister Amelia was in charge of my fourth-grade class, and she was strict. How would I ever be able to face her?
With no time to bake a fresh batch of date bread, Mom came up with a plan. She called our friends and family to tell them about her slip-up and to warn them about the pits in the bread. Then she dialed the nuns’ phone. My face felt hot as I heard her words from the next room.
“Hello, Sister,” Mom said. “I just want you to know that we are giving a prize to the nun who finds the most date pits.” After a pause, Mom added, “That’s right. I’ve got a lace hankie for the sister who gets more than ten pits from her piece of date bread.” Then after another pause, I heard Mom say, “Same to you. Thank you, Sister,” as she hung up.
The botched batch of date bread turned into more than a gaffe. Yet, Mom not only owned her slip-up, but she worked to make it right. At least no one chipped a tooth. Sister Mary Eve found eleven date pits, so she won the hankie.
As for me, I learned that it’s not about the sweets we get or give. It’s about how we deal with the pits.
-Deb Johnston, previously published in Short & Sweet Humil8ting
John Muir— “When we contemplate the whole globe as one great dewdrop, striped and
dotted with continents and islands, flying
through space with other stars all singing
and shining together as one, the whole
universe appears as an infinite storm of
beauty.” —Thank you, John Muir
ON THE DUNE
limber grasses tango
waves flaunt white ruffles
pines arrange cool shade
roll with the lake breeze
waves flaunt white ruffles
polish rocks along the shore
roll with the lake breeze
trace patterns in the sand
polished rocks along the shore
shadows of the gulls circle
trace patterns in the sand
just for you and me
shadows of the gull circle
limber grasses tango
just for you and me
to rest in the pine shade
-Deb Johnston
Emberlight Festival, August 2021, Ironwood Michigan 1st Runner-up
Deb Johnston 