Animals, Weather, Time

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100131

ATTUNED

I love it when he whistles and laughs
and jokes with the cats;
their ears swivel to tune him in;
they climb onto his lap if it’s available;
they gently paw his face, stroke his cheek,
then settle in to ride the warm rhythms
of his chest. "More," they say. "More!"


100130

SNOW DAY

Deer braved the yard today,
where they cautiously fed.
Cats braved the snow for birds.
Birds braved the cats for bread.


100129

WEATHER
WISHERS

What?
You didn’t expect
more snow to fall?

Please.
It’s January,
after all!


100128

BLAST!

"Brace yourselves,"
weathercasters scold,
rhapsodizing over sleet and ice.

Hmmph. That isn't nice; it's cold!


100127

TIME PIECE

"Time flies," Eagle cries.

"Time flies," Frog sighs,
"snatchin’ you up like some bug
that its flickin’ tongue has tazed.
Oh. Time flays," croaks Frog, amazed.
"Time flays," Horse neighs.

"Time flows," Raven crows.

"Time flows," Bear knows,
"driftin’ us along with gentle dreams
of polar ice an’ siftin’ snow.
Ah. Time floes," sighs Bear, mid-doze.
"Time floes," Whale blows.

"Time flees," buzz Bees.

"Time flees," Dog breathes,
"bitin’ our hides to set us movin’,
then lightin’ out; that irritatin’ tease!
Ooh. Time fleas," Dog moans, aggrieved.
"Time fleas," Cat agrees.


[ASIDE: I wanted to leave out quotation marks because they
were so cumbersome and distracting, but that didn't work.]


100126

RELAXED FIT

“When you retire,” his buddies asked,
looking at him a bit askance,
“who, at your house, will wear the pants?”

“Myself,” he winked, with a cheerful glance.
“Of course, I’ll be wearing putter pants.”


100125

TWENTY-TWENTY

Best gift so far,
this twenty-ten—
contact lenses.

I see again!


100124

TOO LATE

I missed a meeting
I meant to attend;
there’s no way to regroup,
recoup, or amend.


100123

BUZZARDS

“Unclean!” they’re seen—

“Untouchable!
Gnarly-headed grotesques. Fearsome
Underlings. Awful offal-eaters.
Horrid things on wings!”

Of this, buzzards are oblivious—
as they are of praise from students
of their ways­­, who say, “It’s official.
Buzzards are good to us. Beneficial.”

They recycle and renew.

Like morticians, beauticians, mothers,
menials, and multitudes of others
(maintenance workers, trash collectors,
hazardous waste operators, plumbers,
and sanitation crews, to name a few)—
discretely and with daily diligence,
they efface life’s ugliness.

They lift in air like dreams.

For those with eyes to see—
such elegance, such grace!


100122

LOOKOUT

At my north-sky facing view,
two trapezoidal windows
show through to a vast expanse
of icy blue; slightly smudged
with gray and white. But—
not a single buzzard in sight.


100121

MEAT OR POISON

One man’s crumpet
is another man’s strumpet.
One woman’s jackpot
is another one’s crackpot.


[ASIDE: Just playing with words, which,
like old stereotypes and clichés, are also
one person’s meat and another’s poison.]


100120

WINTER THUNDER

Startling!

Like a midnight pounding at your door
in the secret-code cadence of a comrade.


SELF-EMANCIPATION

First you have to make it okay
with yourself to think about
what you might possibly want.

Then you have to decide that,
yes, it’s okay to actually want.

Next you allow yourself to
full-heartedly accept
wanted and waited-for things.

After that, permission to pursue
is a natural progression.

In fact, you stand self-revealed
as a natural progression.


100119

CHARM SCHOOLED

It’s hard enough to
charm life into beneficence
when you’re an ingénue;
much less, a nongénue.


ASPIRANT

As if either is a place,
somewhere between seven and seventy,
I got used to living. I expected to expect
every day another day, and every day
three square meals, slow or quick,
and all my blessings double-dipped.

Little plain-old mortal me
aspired to immortality: unending life,
and not just that—ease, abundance, health,
pleasing occupation, and an inside track
to bliss. It hasn’t happened—yet
I’m caught by the idea. First, I’ve heard,
you go through death and back
near-endless times. Or not.


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