Changes...

1.30  Debut

You have arrived

a ball not lost

carried to the finals

and birthed

to decide whose lawn

you would like to inhabit

when that time comes

no bat could send you astray

no fielder stop your ascent

and I pray today

upon your arrival

that you make it through

this bottleneck

with a name 

which carries the weight

of your pedigree

without the drag of the past

over that fence

we could never hope to scale.

###

1.31  Suit

My thoughts return once more

to be reissued amended

perhaps you did

what they accused you of

when I realize you have

disrobed with strangers

and become part of a soup

which no one will drink

coming home midnights

pink glow not from jets

and without a job to boot

it seems strong decisions

are not your suit

and your suit

once hanging in the closet

waiting for the chance to maestro

once again joins the public

who eyes you in a way

brand new to me.

###

Out

Saturday Afternoon Poem...

1.25  Little Bird

Little bird

sing me a song

and get off my lawn

leaving behind only 

nature’s wisdom

a stray feather

the grey shadow 

of your passing

for I have nothing

with which to afford

anything you may be offering

under those 

shiny wings

nature’s miracle

of lift and drag

I will never aspire to.

###

Out

Two For Today...

1.23  A Voice

This morning in the sky

a flying V of fowl

except

not at all the shape

normally reserved for

migration

no no

this morning in the sky

they formed a B

honking as if 

to say 

nothing to see here

and carried on

their calls fell away

almost entirely before

another gaggle appeared

this one an E formed 

straight from printer’s row

and next came 

H and I stood

craning my neck at the horizon

while A and V passed by

followed by yet another E

or perhaps the same

as the song of their passing

faded from the sky

and I returned

smiling

to my front door.

###

1.24  Treasure Hunt

These wooden pieces

and their cardboard home

tucked away beneath

paper and ink decrees

secreted away

in the back of 

this old teak chest

is so much more

than just a game.

###

Out

Recent Fruit...

1.21  Legionnaire

Legionnaire

what brought you here

to lay in shade

on the side of this dusty road

bleached bones

smile a response

words could not convey

of a life lived

a goal not realized

and yet

from his natural cage

sprouts flox and daisy

the hated hyacinth

bees’ feast paid for

with a note

a song thrummed

on drunken wings

an ode

epic in scale

scaled too high 

for ears of passers-by

containing

all that bleached smile

would tell

as shade retreats

and sun continues

its flashbulb track

on the side of this dusty road.

###

1.22  Plow

Garden loam

rich with scent

of winter’s bounty

death’s decay

rudely upended

by steel interrupting

earthworm’s slumber

an alarm for Spring

cutting head from

ringed midsection

and creating

in its wake

two threads

Clothos must track

if she cares to

follow this innocent

to its writhing end.

###

Out

A Shorty Today...

1.16  Other

Today is

not the first

day I have seen

someone else 

looking out from

inside my eyes.

###

Out

Remembering...

1.13  Chlorine Sore

You and the smell of 

freshly baked cookies

enticing us to move in

little knowing roaches

living inside the paneling

were listening to every word

salivating at the thought

of swarming the oven

once the lights went out

all we could dare to 

avoid eye contact with

were the square red 

patches on your arms

cracked and ringed with rime

and your conversation about 

too much chlorine in the pool

did I mention it has a pool

which my brain forever tied together

into a fear seen best

in the bathroom mirror

with its many lights

its cloistered vanity

where I urged the

redness not to appear

and that tiny concern

that engulfed my brain

to start growing if you please

since high school was 

as right around the corner

as Javi the Orkin man.

###

Out

Still going...

1.10 Radish Song

This shrunken radish heart

root vegetable with top chewed

by the local rodentia 

their ilk unasked and unasking

withers from bulbous delicacy

to useless, bitter tuber 

without a fence high enough

to ward off the tallest of them

each hunger leaves more 

destruction until this bumper crop

dwindles to maybe enough

for a single salad 

on a rainy afternoon

in January.

###

Out