Poem for Paxton: June 9, 2010

I am posting this today bc I am writing her eulogy. I’ve never written one before. I hope I do ok. Trying to focus. 

Poem for Paxton

The Shawl from Palestine

I saw it there in the store
it was a deep deep blue
almost black
much darker and deeper a color
than you normally wear
hand woven by 
the women of Palestine
the tag said, maroon thread
I wanted to get it for you
wrap it around your always cold shoulders
I looked at it for a very long time
why hadn’t I collected the money for a gift 
I berated, debated
put it down and walked away
left the store
walked in the rain
thought about all you had given
thought about all you had seen
thought about how much you had lost 
thought about how much you loved
thought about how much you believe
Faith had found you on the Wailing Wall
Faith had found you behind the stone
Faith had found you already sewn into the threads 
the women had woven
It was too deep and dark a blue
so I chose this silken purse from Vietnam
Especially For You
Much Love,


I have come to love horrorscopes. I love them for several reasons, including that they can make some people puff with superiority so quickly. Yes, apparently some are too good for some good old fashioned fun with the stars and the moons and the Neptune in the rising sector of Uranus.


Years ago I found these and have read them every week since. I love them. 😀 And I read this weeks over and over and over! Happy Valentimes to all!

Lots of Love,


From Rob Brezsny’s Free Will Astrology:

“This Valentine season, meditate on the relentlessness of your yearning for love. Recognize the fact that your eternal longing will never leave you in peace. Accept that it will forever delight you, torment you, inspire you, and bewilder you — whether you are alone or in the throes of a complicated relationship. Understand that your desire for love will just keep coming and coming and coming, keeping you slightly off-balance and pushing you to constantly revise your ideas about who you are. Now read this declaration from the poet Rilke and claim it as your own: “My blood is alive with many voices that tell me I am made of longing.”

-Rob Breszny Sagittarius Feb 2013

Also I learned Rilke from this! Never knew before! Here’s a link to his poems. 


They were talking of books

And I was tired of books

Tired of cooking

Of being clever

Of wearing the right shoes

With the right outfits

Tired of the right places

And the right drinks

With the right people

Tired of it all


They were on to Brasil

And Dubrovnik

“This time of year”

Oh have you been and how I must go


I hadn’t been

and would probably never go

Or read it

Or buy that right bag

Did they ever tire

of the one-up-man’s ship?

or were they infinitely energized

by the competition

of building their travel resumes

so I can say “impressive”

when they hand it to me on the right beach


I want to drink Budweiser

And listen to muzak

While shooting peanut shells

Into a makeshift goal

“score” I’ll say and they’ll laugh

and ask, “have you ever played handball

in Iceland?”

And I’ll say no again.

-Aug 14, 2008


Nov 14, 2008


In the kitchen I feel like things can happen

It’s a deep red and a federal blue

I added the stars

After Obama on Tuesday

My horrorscope tells me it’s time to see signs

I used to see them all the time but then my more rational side won

There’s no such things as signs, he said

And then he spilled his drink

I remember this from two years ago

A little over two and a half if I was counting.

I live across from the church now. they’re reformed.

According to my feng sui

It’s in the quadrant of my life path

Shit. I thought I’d just go regular ‘ol lady, not religious ‘ol lady


I stopped baking two years ago

It’s good for my ego

Somewhere, this

All makes sense in the stars


photo: heidi echternacht Dec 2010

spring 2007


If the sun is happiness

and rain is the tears

somewhere in the middle is the rainbow

Is it always there?

somewhere hidden

between a sunny joyful afternoon
and a quiet lonely rain

It’s what’s most in life

the moments in between

the happy and the sad

the colors of daily life.

And only sometimes

can you catch a glimpse of

its sweet and plain

unexpected spectacularness.


six days supermoon

photo: Heidi Echternacht March 2011
Six Days first published November 19, 2008

six days

Friday, five days ago
I drove six, no eight hours
To one of the ends of the earth
we three left at four
missed the turn
So we didn’t fall off
into Ohio

the next morning
hammers and chatter
hammers and chatter
left at ten and turned left and then
drove laps around the lake
drove laps around the lake

we had coffee and cake
dinner set
but not for eight
turned out to be five
and two
crab walked around the table

later that night
real life rock stars
magic hat, the no. 9,
Mary toasted toast
and shot beam
Was this a dream
Or just my time
At one of the ends of the earth

this six day story
all started on a fours day
Thursday, Thursday
The band and the moon
a full
Cake flying
Ruth was dying
a baby was being born very soon

it all came at once
the figure, the eight
the signs and the stars
the signs and the stars
the moon and the moons
they stomped home under
o hi yo

Sunday saw saws
a Lump of a dog
slept next to me
he bit the hand that fed it
that’s what you get for waking me
too early
sorry, fuck off
I am human too
dog, especially in the morning

now, Today is Monday
and I have driven back
to my own earth’s center
reading children’s books at our café
staffed by eager young readers
waiting to wait, coffee or tea
we closed early and made napkin rings

the baby was born and Ruth was dead
the band had gone
I was home again
goodbye to the beautiful
land near
o hi o