Author: cfblack
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Barefoot on my daughter’s front porch
Tired and hungry from the night Mustapha whines at the back porch screen. It is my daughter’s house so I won’t let him in I want to listen to birds and sip my coffee quietly before the sun and grand kids rise. I tell him to hush, go somewhere else. He continues his mewling high…
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Blue heron
It saw me first coming around the bend stepping on the wooden bridge I heard it rise out of reeds watched long legs fold up like landing gear soar low over water Gather speed cresting pines blue gray wings against a gray blue sky 6-12-20
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rapture
following a night of rain lichen blossom on fallen trees sides of oak glow blue-green mycelium reawaken throw spores ecstatically in the air mushrooms rise up in the woods moss puts on green robes hold chloroplasts in the air dance their resurrection in my yard I breathe in holiness sanctified, redeemed awaiting my decay 6-11-20
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The news from my porch
Last night it rained This morning dirt and debris is arranged in serried rows along the curb Today I will sweep it all into piles for the city to haul away Tomorrow 6-10-20
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Coeur de Lion
I’ve grown tired of the news and have taken to reading history Richard the Lion Hearted was not his father’s eldest son History calls him, “a bad son, a bad husband, a selfish ruler and a vicious man” He went on a great crusade he often butchered his own people Afraid to rule, he fought…
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I need a city job
This morning, the humidity is oppressive soon the sky will crack open and storms reveal leaks the sun obscures A park employee on a mower races the storm no time to get off and remove debris shattering sticks, head down as he slays grass Wherever you find a park employee working there are two higher…
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bipartisan tweets
bi-partison tweetstogether red and blue birdseat from same feeder 6-7-20
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haiku for Sunday’s ambient music soundtrack
dog barks, chainsaw whines basketballs thump, mower drones birds call back and forth 6-7-20
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for Marie
Marie lived in the big house she was born in. She had a baby grand in the parlor and cookies in the kitchen. She was my mother’s friend. She was the pianist for the Masonic hall. She told me I had a good voice. There was a picture on her mantle, of a young woman…
