Recent Entries for Picturecompete’s contest “Aging”

While I didn’t win this contest, the sponsors were generous in sharing the “Ann’s Hand” image as well as a link to this blog on their Facebook page. None of the winners of the contest really resonated with me– it was still useful to enter and get feedback…


The gent in the middle is my late father in law- he was, in his youth, a true SOB, though he softened into a gentle old man as he aged. I think here, his eyes show the fire of his youth even if his face (and his eyebrows) have moved on


The hand and the other face are of my friend Ann who is 92 years old. I met her on a writing workshop in Montana last summer– she had just come back from a semester at sea. Wonderful woman…

Why a Flower?

if Valentines day was a life and not a day….


because of its speechless improbability

this miracle of green emerging soft

so shyly from the damp dark


because it feeds equally on sun and rain

relishing both always reaching

to unite heaven and earth


beacause of is powers of alchemy

transmuting the rot of all passing things

into colors beyond imagination


because when the last color falls

and the stems begin to bend in mourning

the perfume will still fill the room


the sweetness of spring will still linger

on the gardeners’ fingers



© Old Bones, New Snow J.A. Fink

butter and bacon




 there’s always hope with enough

butter and bacon, all gluten free!

who knew, until the sellers told us,

of this ubiquitous poison in our bread?

and not just for an unlucky few, those

with identifiable disease, but for all

of us—go gluten free and you’ll feel

better—go free of anything fool

and you’ll feel better, if you’re so held

that the word “free” fairly applies. I

never knew my grandfather, dead

from a coronary before I was born. They say

he’d circle the table eating the scraps of fat

from all the plates. Today he’d be a paleo

hero- except for the being dead part, which is,

of course, where we are all headed.

How our conception of sin has diminished

in this age without boundaries- come love

let us pull down the shades and turn out

the lights. You can rub my back with butter

and I will lick the bacon from your lips.

We’ll make of ourselves a sandwich

and dream the dream of forbidden tastes

while we await the banquet of dawn.



© Old Bones, New Snow/J.A. Fink 2014