Category: daily life
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Albert
wind in trees cool overcast skies nice day for sitting in the yard gym calls my name Albert, get off your sagging butt and push some weights 8-23-23
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coming or going
Wake from dream, 4 am Listen to Carol breathing Jet flies low over house Coming or going…I do not know Coffee cooling on kitchen counter, 6 am Meditation and prayers in park Online meeting starts real soon Coming or going…I do not know 8-22-23
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Long distance runner
Mother, poet, educator Always pushing yourself Harder, faster, longer We just sat down to watch If we knew it was a sprint We would have come sooner And paid better attention (for the poet, Michele Reese) 7-31-23
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Saturday morning people watching in the park
In the park Wesly walks chest out dog on a leash at his side Buttercup walks behind head down on her phone “…loooove. Truuuue lovvee will follow you forever.” 7-1-23
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Mud dauber
because it heard your head is full of mush mud dauber swirls around your face looking for a way in to build a nest you do not swat you walk away and live to fight another day 6-30-23
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The exile
unaffected by its lack of freedom songbird sings from its cage hanging on a hook In the corner you doze in the lap of 21st century luxury unwilling to sing because you feel uncomfortable 6-23-23
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Plum blossom slippers
Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet.(Thich Nhat Hanh) written for a poetry workshop: Rejoice in the morning of your survival Above your head a crow shakes last night’s rain from leaves Haploid to diploid fertility dance In the dewy dawn moss comes green The weight of your burden is carried…
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Red-headed stranger
High up in a dying tree Mr. Woodpecker knocks on wood Hopes a worm or insect May come to see who is calling I am not oblivious to their plight But neither am I complicit I hear him hammering at their door And do not disturb his ruse 6-18-23
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Night stalks on cat feet
Late at night you sit on the porch. Distant low traffic drone harmonizes with high insect songs. Bare feet gather in sunlight from warm concrete. In the middle of the street the neighbor’s grey cat stands, stares up at an old man on a porch. If she weren’t so skittish, you’d invite her up to…
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Beer money
I had not seen the old man who lives on the other side of the park since last Autumn. Today, while walking by his house, he called from his porch. I walked over to say hello. He removed a blanket from his lap, showed me his leg was gone, said he could not trim my…
My husband's poetry 