In 1980 Mt. St. Helens . . . ERUPTED

and she's still doing it although it's mostly steam these days. this is the link to the web cam that keeps track. There are also movies of past web cam days -- keeping track and available for us to do it too..

the link is under the title but here too just in case you haven't figured that out yet.

go see and enjoy.

http://www.fs.fed.us/gpnf/volcanocams/msh

My Friend Lee Starr . . . .

wrote many poems. After she died I asked her husband if I could put them on my web page and he gave me permission to do that

Lee was also an artist and a musician. She was able to look OUTSIDE THE BOX and someday I'll tell you more about her, but for now -- here is one of her poems.


Kon-itchkå Cockateil

crest of gold
black shining eyes
feathered in pearly gray
orange suns on your cheeks
you laid five ivory eggs
before life fled you
be gentled ittle one
fly gracefully in death dreams
trailed by your phantom nestlings
as I bury you with your five pearls
wrapped in a silken scarf
uder viridian green pines whispering sutras

Leonora Cetone Starr

And I just found another one. The font is very small and has to be tweaked to get it here. It's worth it though.


THE VIRGIN

up over a hill in a
round cage of glass
was a shape
whose life was a perfect arc

its one eye
could only see inward
and its one foot
could only hop in circles

its body was
thin like tissue
from being presseed
to the glass of the cage

It's veins stood out
and whispered
little songs to each other
as they passed up and
down that shape

it never cried
or laughed
or anything

one day the inward eye
felt that something was wrong
although it could not see

surely enough
the glass cage
had crack in it
there must have been
a molecule of air
that got into the cage

as the shape
begn to tremble with
fear and dread

the POOR inward eye
strained so
trying to look out and see
the cause of that strangeness

suddeny the shape
was touched by
a gust of breeze
never in its whole being
had it been touched

the little veins
on the shape
became so startled
they became one big stream

mixed with rainbow colors
and song
in a million voices
a noise like the color of purple
fruit filled the air

the poor shape became
so terrified and maddened
it burst into a stream
of rainbows
spilling over the broken glass
sucking into the crack
singing softly
mixed with
murmurs and sighs . . .

Leonora Cetone Starr©1996

I love this Link

and so will you if you like history and wildflowers.

once again in visible language. . .http://tinyurl.com/j5jqw

A POEM by me

Pablo got me going. He's written a lot of poems about ordinary things. The most important ordinary thing right now is the computer and the connection to all you great folks on the internet but it costs me. . . .like this.



ODE to touch
by Claire Read
July 1,2006

my keyboard is on an angle
as I type
watching my hands
hands are
wise in the way of keystrokes

I close my eyes
they hurt
an attached magnefier
a great round eye
to aid my eyes
exacting a toll
making them hurt
especialy
if I duck
straining upward
inconvenient and painful
I touch type
with lots of typos.

forgiving keyboard
underlines them in red
easy to correct


my eyes still hurt.


with respect to Pablo Neruda
claire read