Wednesday, November 22, 2017

pre-overeating

let's start tonight
with stuffed squash as big as your buttock,
slices of cake as big as hamhocks
and whipped cream and Calvados
smothered over it all.
let's start overeating
in preparation for tomorrow.
let's prepare for sitting next to a family
member we don't like
and to the other side someone we do like
how to discreetly and politely mostly
look one way
and drink plenty of wine
it's the holidays
and
I love them.

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

and

and
I will close up my laptop
and
after brushing my teeth and
putting on my PJs
I will sneak downstairs
trying not to step on that one stair that
creaks
and
after my corn bags are heated up
I will try to sneak into bed and not wake him up
but I
know his eyes will pop open
in fact,
he's still awake waiting for me because
who can fall asleep without their loved
one breathing softly
next to
you

Monday, November 20, 2017

sneezing


I'll send this picture to the man down 
the hall.
I hear him breathe in a tornado
and sneeze out a hurricane,
my walls reverberate in response,
I cringe in my office
and curse him.
I know the droplets have filled
the entire building and into the 
roof cavities.
Did his father never teach him
any manners

Sunday, November 19, 2017

Saying no

just say no
to spending $1000 on a new laptop
to spending time with people you don't like
just say no
to doing dishes, cooking and cleaning
I'll do what I please, say no
to reading the poems in the New York Times
Magazine, to spending time trying to figure out
what on earth they are talking about
say no to obfuscation
say yes to good food and wine
a soft bed and an interesting
life
It includes you.

Friday, November 17, 2017

Bella

She's the model in the family,
posing for the photographer with her ears
tucked back, standing tall.
she insisted on the blue and yellow 
background to highlight her 
dark complexion.

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Done with FaceBook

I don't have to check it anymore -
Cindy has won.
The campaign is over, I can settle back
into the ignorant bliss of what others think.
I don't want to know,
unless it's interesting and intelligent,
or funny, like a kitten scooting across the floor.
Did you know that most poems I read are
terrible, incomprehensible, written to make
us feel uncultured and confused,
referring to Greek gods and Shakespearean
lines.
I don't have to read them either.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

The sounds of Tourette

this young man emits
the hoot of an owl
followed by the crack of bones
adjusting themselves in his neck,
the other
cries as the van door swings open
the swish of air as his arms flail
he barks, gathers himself
before badging in and nodding,
a soft hello.
he gathers the mail, holding himself
in control until he is within proximity
of his van
as it rolls away, I hear explosions of sound.
the young man now smiles at me
and when he hoots, I smile back.


Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Heading home


how high the froth
rose before returning to the sea,
how much the wake spread before
disappearing into the restless sea
how the sun was warm on my shirt
but the wind cooled my face
how this journey across the sea
would lead to my warm bed
below the mountains
how magical

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Let me look a little closer

Beth's sheep taking a closer look

Monday, November 6, 2017

It could have been me

it could have been me
It could have been you, your husband,
Wife, uncle, aunt, your child
Someone you loved
Someone you held in your arms
Someone you helped learn to read.
It could have been me or you.
It was your brother and your sister,
We are all brothers and sisters.
How have we forgotten?

Sunday, November 5, 2017

Non proliferation and terrorism

Conversation exchange between an American woman
And an Arab man -
Google comes up with the ad 
Nonproliferation and Terrorism.

Friday, November 3, 2017

National. Fountain Pen Day


How could you not know.
The best holiday, and I wonder 
Whether it was the Republicans or the 
Democrats, perhaps the Libertarians?
Yes, in their penthouses, drinking the finest 
Brandy, smoking their cigars,
Or perhaps while waiting for the help
To paint her nails, they will gently remove
The cap from their pens, admire the golden tips
And write a card or two.
Could you imagine such a scenario.

Thursday, November 2, 2017

Fall


I stop to wrap my scarf around my head and neck,
to reach for my warm gloves
and notice the beautiful golden grasses,
the dimpled clouds and haze over the mountains.
Just for a brief moment, long enough to want to 
capture this moment in Fall, a moment that will fall
away into the thousands that have passed.
My body is growing golden and brittle
but my spirit still soars with the clouds.

Wednesday, November 1, 2017

My friend, Steve

My friend, Steve, is the best.
We have aged together, with his bad eyes and teeth
But bright smile and keen mind.
Me, with grey hair hidden under synthetic colors,
Freckles mixed with age spots,
But bright eyes and capoeira arms.
We have been friends since our day on the beach
Forty years ago
And we are still friends today,
Me drinking martinis and wine, slurping oysters
He eating his gumbo and drinking sparking water.
I am happy every time he visits me
And I know he is, too.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Happy Halloween


Wonder Woman, the Curious One,
The Raccoon and the Eagle, the Pirate and
the Ant, a few random others,
we drank Root and laughed as the 
alcohol burned our throat and filled our
nostrils with the smell of root beer.
One from Mexico, another from Guatamala,
two from Brazil and four from Venezuela,
a few Americans.
Happy Halloween!

Monday, October 30, 2017

being part of a group

Last summer
I longed for being part of that group
the one I saw through the neighbor's window
there was a dark haired woman lifting her glass
to her friends and everyone was smiling.
Growing up
I wanted to be part of that other group of kids going
trick-or-treating,
A few years ago, I thought
I'd even be ok with paying to
be part of a therapy group,
until I did and hated it.
no, it had to be a group who wanted me.
I tried to make groups, but no one joined.
tonight I looked around the circle at Lucas
and Mestre, Arisca and Vicki, Juan and Cristol,
at Sabe and Gina and knew that finally
I was part of a group.

Sunday, October 29, 2017

The ballot


And when the boxes are filled in and
The stamp is pressed into the little box,
When the votes have been counted,
We'll drink a toast to 
Whatever,
Whatever has happened, whether win or lose,
The sun will come up and decisions will be made.
I'll get back to reading the local paper for fun events,
FaceBook occasionally with no fear of "notifications"
Life will be easier, I'll drink some wine because I like
It, not because I need it.

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Boulder Politics


Boulder, 
Skateboarders and scholars,
Families and fun-seekers,
Climbers and cats sleeping on window sills
What happened to Boulder,
My sleepy town.

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Heading towards the abyss


Today at 9 p.m. I head for the abyss,
traversing snowfields and ice on Thursday
into the lowlands sometime Friday.
it's a hike up from there, over some low hills,
down towards a stream and back up into higher 
hills.  Sunday, we'll climb steeply at 70 degrees
only to fall again
we have no visibility into the future after that,
be sure to bring extra clean underwear and socks.

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Dead Battery

I should have listened to Steve.
But instead, I met Nacho and drove
For an hour along tree-lined roads,
Fall colors in full show
Through rocky canyons
Up steep winding roads, along bubbling
Brooks, taking curves just fast enough,
And when I got home, my battery was still
Dead.

Monday, October 23, 2017

Educe and Lucre

I thought of myself as an intellectual
until I started doing the NYT mini-crossword puzzles
the ones for five year olds.
I may not be faulted for the names of football players
or the actress in West Wing, but educe and
lucre cannot be forgiven,
much less forgotten no more than two
minutes after the crossword is done.
it's a hoax, these crossword puzzles,
if they are mini, then what, pray tell,
does that say about me.

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Endless sky


nothing seems to matter when the fence
disappears into the distance, the wires lined
up with the horizon
a few clouds hanging above the flat endless
plains
the grass is golden now, dry, crisp
the landscape is stark, harsh and accepting
all at once
our bones will turn to dust as we gaze
at the endless horizon, the wires on the fence
the grass is green, then turns to brown.

Thursday, October 19, 2017

in the early morning


in the early morning, 
who is working in that tall building on the hill,
whose lights are burning bright, whose minds
are whirring still after a long night.
on the ground, it is still dark
the quiet only broken by the shuffle of my feet,
the clicking of her claws on the sidewalk
there is no one here, only us to watch
the glorious rose-colored clouds sweep
across the landscape.
it will be light soon.

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

the house and the bike


the house and the bike are old,
one is on stilts, being raised from so many
years of sinking 
the workers smoke cigarettes in the front
and smiled at my compliments.
the bike is loaded with red wine,
six bottles in a special bag,
a seventh tucked in the side
the wine guy insisted on it.
this old bike, this old house have
so many stories to tell, of falling leaves
and whispers in the wind.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

The grasslands


I rode by, at first, noticing the golden grasses
and the sky, the clouds and this moment.
and I knew 
that this moment had to be captured
the golden grass, the hills, the sky, the clouds
the warmth of this day
soon there will be frost and cold and my
mittens will stay on my hands.
So, I stopped and returned to this spot
where the summer has stalled to finish
painting the grasses, the sky and the hillsides
the final colors of this season.
I had to capture it, to hold this image close
to my heart until the warmth comes again.

Monday, October 16, 2017

The Coffee Shop


I knew she would be interesting 
As soon as I confirmed that she was alone.
Women on their own are always more interesting,
Bold enough to make eye contact with a stranger.
I was alone
With my cup of Earl Grey 
I was entranced by the silhouette of a man
With spiked hair against the window.
So we talked in French and English
Until a young man walked up to her
And then a young man walked up to me.
We are so interesting, her and I, that young
Men walk up to us.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Hiking in Cowboy Boots


 a long shadow
cowboy boots, a long skirt
The Western Woman.
Ready to hike up the steep scrabble
To the old mine 
Turquoise and iron, galena and copper
Bandannas to shield the men from 
Relentless sun, their canteens hot,
Not enough water to quench the
Enduring thirst.
She’s a cowgirl but she’s not holding a 
Pickaxe, only the edge of her skirt,
She gingerly steps up the slope
Anticipating lunch the next town over.

Thursday, October 12, 2017

Running a political campaign

I knew there was a reason I didn't want to deal with the public.
I headed for the laboratory, or put my nose in a book,
I surrounded myself with smart people, those who engage their minds
and speak full sentences, I like being around people who don't
rant and rave, spewing venomous monologue through their fingers
onto Twitter or Facebook, Instant Messenger or Instagram.
I'm doing this for her, for the woman with the gentle heart,
the probing mind, the years of watching and learning and watching
some more.
she should not have to deal with this campaign poison.
I find it rather entertaining when someone else speaks up
for us and I can just watch it all go by.
In a month, this will be over and maybe she will be in front
of a podium, perhaps not, but I will be done with the public
it can't come too soon.

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Science


This 1" x 1" square of titanium
floated in blue off the coast of Florida
as fish floated nearby and a plethora of
organisms looked for a roost, a place to call home
they called this home,
some shells and algae and other crusty souls
landed and stuck together as a colony
of survivors on a rocky island.
pulled from the sea, held by a gloved
hand, they may wonder what has
become of their home
soon to be sheared from their 
moorings in the name of science.

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

500 Women Scientists


We're the 1% who showed up tonight,
writing postcards and arguing about committees
and sub-committees and sub-sub-committees.
this is what groups do to grow
we argue and fight and either spinter into a million
shards, or 500, or 5
or unite, the young and old, the academics, the
unemployed, the employed,
but we are all 
scientists.

Monday, October 9, 2017

The first snow


blades of grass stick up through the first snow
branches bow and break
crashing down onto roadways
I saw one falling close by,
its branches snapping, then crashing
through underlying ones before
striking the ground
snow falls so gently, the grasses
support this light blanket while
branches, leaves laden with 
heavy wet snow tumble towards
the ground, 
delicacy next to destruction.

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Hanging Out/ Hanging On


on this sunny day in October
tomatoes ripening the sun
a storm is looming
we bask, the caterpillar and I
for the last moments before the rain
your stripes, your feet, your perfection
capture me, and I remove the small branch
and carry you, gazing rapt at your
spots and your little red tail.
some children came by and we petted you
like a small cat, feeling your rough
skin on our fingertips.
you are perfection
Waking from revery, my hands reached
again between tomato vines, grasping
the green fruits to bring in from
the looming storm.  
I will go inside to be warm, but
you will be out in the rain
this is what caterpillars do.

Friday, October 6, 2017

riding solo


My bike is alone in the rack,
I see the cars stopped in gridlock
behind it.
The long shadow is lovely, I can
stand in the sun and admire it.  
The white car heading north is moving now,
the cars heading south are stalling in 
gridlock.
I'll ride solo on wide sidewalks
punctuated by driveways, drivers
studiously looking to the right as I
come up from their left.
I'll stop so I can keep riding 
tomorrow.

Thursday, October 5, 2017

being a housewife after work

12 c of oatmeal mixed with nuts,
honey, oil and vanilla extract,
Oh, no, no oil so I wander the
neighbors pantries with Bella,
we are lucky to find some.
Off to the market to get milk,
Six quarts to an almost boil in
an improvised double boiler
while I play flute and do my exercises
as old age is chasing me
I resist.
and then the milk has to cool,
and the yogurt culture mixed in,
and whole shebang put in hot
water for a nice bath.
It will yoge for me.
and then the granola comes out
of the oven and
it smells heavenly.

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

music in the park


it doesn't matter how she plays
she's out there in the park on a dreary day
we hear the sound of her heart beat,
not from nervousness, but steady and strong.
she's out in the park, not as a perfect musician,
just a person who has the guts to do it,
with mistakes, with her husband whistling along.
he can whistle all the music she plays flawlessly.
that's love. 

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

To all those who


To all those who unregistered to vote because of Trump,
it's time to register, 
it's time to vote.
To all those who stayed home tonight instead of
venturing out into the community
it's time to speak
To all those who ride their bikes on cold days
let's celebrate you
you are one less car
and to all those who give lovingly of your time and
energy,
we celebrate you,
you are what makes the world so beautiful.

Monday, October 2, 2017

Waiting

Waiting for warmth
That only comes from corn bags
Hand made with love,
Cold, they go into the microwave
Hot, they come out
Fresh, smelling of popcorn.
Onto my toes and hands, warming
Them from ice
To molten chocolate.

Sunday, October 1, 2017

Campaigning

I don't like the public,
which is why I study micrometeoroids and space debris,
why I am in my office and not at meetings
that I generally find to be useless with more
than 2 people attending.
The public is annoying, posting commentary
on FaceBook that is one-sided, ill-considered,
rude or all three.
I rejoice in the nice ones.
I'm not fit to interact with the public
being impatient and snobbish,
Campaigning reminds me of this,
it's good to be reminded.

Thursday, September 28, 2017

the bachelor

and
one woman walked in
her breasts swinging free under her dress
cleavage in full view
commando style
the dog checked her out
multiple times
and
there's another woman next door
who shows up for coffee when
her boyfriend is away
she lingers at the door
the bachelor life
middle aged but fit,
shaved bald
a nice smile and a fat checking
account
he's in demand

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Butterflies


hordes of them
a cloud
landing and flittering off
I can hear the nectar being slurped
into hungry mouths
the sun is glinting off their wings
a wind is rising 
a turbulent storm
sweeping across Africa
from the flurry of
butterfly wings

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Getting to bed earlier

all of a sudden it's 10:30 p.m.
my love is in bed, he has stolen my covers,
my poem is not written,
I've only practiced flute for 5 minutes
my teeth are not brushed.
I'm getting texts from him, reminding
me that it's time for bed,
then that he's turning out the lights
and I'll have to creep into the bedroom
disturbing his gentle snoring,
or not, as he's awake in bed,
in the dark,
waiting for me.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

I was tempted but resisted


I was tempted, really,
for a few moments, I put it in my cart
even thinking how easy it would be to pull a 
pre-moistened towelette from the shiny plastic 
dispenser and press the four corners into 
the neatly cut slits.
I would remove it from its plastic packaging,
the kind that must be cut with a sharp pair of scissors,
the material that goes in a landfill and never goes
away, it will be there for future generations 
to ponder at our wastefulness.
I decided against it.
I put it back on the shelf.
I went home and pulled out my decades old
mop handle, the original covers long gone.
I covered the base with an old kitchen towel,
secured it with clothespins, sprayed 
some cleaner made with baking soda
on the floor and mopped.
The floor was beautifully clean.

Friday, September 22, 2017

unable to share

Unable to share
the photo of the old man out for his morning stroll,
supporting himself on his walker, his small white poodle
accompanying him, the sun is low in the sky,
I would have shown you but the Cloud says it's unable
to share right now and to come back later,
since when does the Cloud sleep,
I'd like to know.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

the perfect latte


Artistry can be found everywhere, created anywhere
by anyone at anytime
in any weather
during travels for any reason,
a  perfect latte is the perfect reason to stop,
to reflect,
to donate the same amount of money
to anyone anywhere anytime
who is in need.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Writing it up


what  does Henry's Law have to do with anything
what does a sub-monolayer look like
and what does the Martian wind look like near the surface
when it's hot and when it's cold
these are the questions worth asking when it's 10 p.m.
Colorado time, and there's an empty wine glass
and an empty martini glass on the table in front of me
I'll say what I have to say.
and when my feet slip into my wool slippers and 
my pajamas are soft against my skin,
the blankets are warm and my eyes are closed
my dreams will come to me 
I will see the wind dervishes on Mars
spinning, spinning,spinning

Monday, September 18, 2017

Packing for Mars 2020 Peer Review

shall I wear the slightly stretchy pants
the first day or the second, with the colorful
top, the black jacket, how about my favorite
socks with the Swiss emblem,
I haven't reviewed the technical materials yet,
but will jeans be ok on the second day,
it seems they dress business casual all the
time even though it's California,
maybe too many old white men?
and it's late again, and my friend, Steve,
would be packed in five minutes but
perhaps he did not just finish making home made
granola and homemade yogurt for his
sweetheart.
The technical details will wait until tomorrow
night after a cocktail with an old friend,
that should release the critical mind to do
her work while she sleeps.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Earning a belt


I chased him, the old mestre around
the roda, knowing he could bring me down
and we laughed at this knowledge in this game,
I kicked and he easily stepped away, I ducked
under his kicks that moved so slowly, 
arcing gracefully over my head.
he pointed behind me and I turned my head,
for a moment only to see him laughing at me.
he had taught me never to do that, to always
keep your eyes on your opponent.
after the fun, he wrapped my waist with my 
first belt, lovingly wrapped by my mestre,
never say never, never say too old.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Looking for that special bowl


I'm looking for that special bowl that she 
carefully spun on a potter's wheel, the one she 
described as "Dinner set with green chun lip",
I looked for a set of four
Isn't that what a dinner set is, or it is six,
It was one, a dinner for one seems so lonely,
nestled amongst handle-less mugs, extravagantly
elegant pitchers and pudgy objects that only
a mother would love.
I loved all those hand formed pieces she brought
me from kindergarten, and the handprint still pressed
into the cement on 13th Street marked "Karen".
these are the objects that endure alongside
my steadfast love for the girl that made
the pudgy pots and smeared posters,
I still have them all.  

Monday, September 11, 2017

Old friends, XLV


XLV years later, we meet again,
it's Fate.  
You with grey in your beard,
Me with slight jowls, but
the same smiles, the same affection.
The Oregon beach where we met still has
a thundering surf 
the sunsets are as spectacular and young people
wander the beach, smiling across shimmering sand,
maybe they will become friends like we did.
Maybe they will meet again 45 years later
at a brewpub somewhere.

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Trading tomatoes for community engagement


when all else fails, bribe them
with heirloom tomatoes, warmed by the sun,
ripened to perfection.

Friday, September 8, 2017

my kind of crossword puzzle


I hate the usual crossword puzzles
with room for 10 letter words and obscure clues
and nods to popular culture.
I'm a cultural wasteland.
But this puzzle, the one with four to five letter words,
this one with 23 boxes to fill it,
this is my dream crossword,
It makes me so happy when I am done,
the big accomplishment for the day,
mastery feels so good.

Thursday, September 7, 2017

capoeira angola


the fellow in the yellow T-shirt cleans my house.
I can't believe I have had a capoeira angola mestre cleaning my house.
I found out the my capoeira canavial mestre cleans houses, too.
mestres need to be paid more for making the world 
a better place.
all this swirls in my mind as my muscles groan
and my bones creak,
the fellow with the white dew rag has Tourette Syndrome
So brave to be here, knowing that at any moment
he will make weird sounds at odd moments.
he's apologetic but calm.
we are moving in a circle,
on our hands and knees
as if in prayer.
god knows the world needs it.

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

queuing


we are all lined up 
slowly shuffling along, most of us with
cell phone in hand, some hold a book,
some look annoyed, others resigned.
I see a woman wearing high heels,
a man with bad teeth and a couple
in love.
they could stand forever in line
time has stopped for them
how lovely.

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

the trouble with money

she likes to buy makeup and fancy clothes
he can't  get by without a $6000 bike
he makes less
she makes more
or he makes more and she makes less
but they share a bed and a life and children
and a house and need two cars
and he likes to dine out and she doesn't want to spend
the money and why are there so many unopened Amazon
packages in the hallway
where does the money go
and no, there is no logic to why having
a budget causes tears and anger
turning away.
ah, the trouble with money.

Saturday, September 2, 2017

Doctor Decade


Doctor Decade,
it's been at least a couple since we talked
now look at us still singing, riding a bike,
still strumming a guitar,  tooting a flute,
writing songs,penning poems
you have lost some hair and gained some weight
I have my own secret losses
It's a sunny day in Lansing,
we're still here
still singing and strumming,
still smiling.

Thursday, August 31, 2017

Love


how tenderly he holds her
she melts into his embrace
intense happiness.
there is a ring on her left hand,
a promise in their hearts
he is the one
she is the one
I know this
I recognize this
my heart is in their embrace
as surely as any mother's
who knows that she is the one
for him, he is the one for her.

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Passing the Test


with some practice
some dedication and humility,
with passion and perseverence
it's possible to pass the test,
not just barely but with flying colors,
with 92% approval, with a smile
I passed the test
I hugged my mestre
and bounced up and down 
and texted my family
and emailed my friends
and am writing this post.
I passed the test, having gone
from struggling on the ground,
to standing up to kicking up to 
the sky.
it feels good.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

The bounty of a single tomato


Heirloom tomato:  1 lb 8 oz, organic,
priced at $5/pound buys enough seeds
for the squash and tomatoes, the tomatillos
and cucumbers.
That's one tomato and we've already eaten
many pounds of squash and tomatoes,
of lemon cucumbers and green cucumbers,
of turnips and peas, of Swiss chard and 
don't forget the many pounds of potatoes 
still hidden under the soil.
When snow is still drifting to the ground
and lettuce seeds sit under a fine layer of
wet soil, remember the bounty of the late
summer where the price of a single tomato,
not purchased, but pulled warm from the vine
saves enough to buy all the seeds you need.

Monday, August 28, 2017

Go for it


all five of them tottered on the edge
not venturing to jump off for the first five countdowns
5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1
only leaning forward without launching
until finally
finally one jumped, 
then another
and another,
the little girl with the ponytail jumped last,
her delicate feet disappearing into the swirl
of the cool water, her smile popping up from
underneath,
she waved at me.
i missed it with my camera
but her smile is imprinted onto
my memory.

Sunday, August 27, 2017

this is my home


this is my home,
dry and warm, there is no water
running along the floorboards,
I am not perched on a table
helplessly watching water stream by,
watching the levels rise knowing I have 
no where to go, no way to get anywhere,
that I am here amidst millions
isolated in our own homes
without a boat.
My sisters and brothers are huddled
in their waterlogged homes, holding children
and dogs, a warm blanket, waiting and 
watching,
and I am here in my cozy home watching
Game of Thrones,
I can only be aware of the
unfairness of the world.
I can only hope they find
relief,
and soon.

Friday, August 25, 2017

turnip harvest



turnips never grew in my garden plot
across the street, no amount of fertilizer,
compost, water, love...
would produce a single small turnip.
I held small hopes for my new garden
but put the seeds in the ground in Spring
and forgot about them, enjoying
sauteed greens all summer long
until I looked.
Turnips, huge ones, pressing against
each other, rising from the soil like
breaching whales.
turnips may never have grown across
the street no matter what, but feeling the
weight of huge turnips with their
attendent greens makes me happy,
finally happy.

Thursday, August 24, 2017

Young Dancers


a moment ago, they were giggling 
in a random swarm of legs and arms,
the flash of braces and bling,
of wealth and privilege.
and then
bodies aligned and sprang forward and
up in harmony, in perfect discipline
in beauty.


Wednesday, August 23, 2017

I will read this to you when you are older


you, my grandchild, are not yet born,
in fact, only a twinkle in the eye of some future
parents, not even married,
yet I think of sitting here with you on my knee,
we'll look at pictures drawn long ago and 
words in a language your parents do not 
understand, stories of flying angels and white
clouds billowing over rocky shores.
I will point out words like "chat" and 
"chien" noting the importance of cats
and dogs in the world, but also "maman"
et "papa" for the two most important people
in your world.
I hope to be the third.
One day.

Monday, August 21, 2017

Looking towards the sun - a solar eclipse


After inhaling the Moon Pies and donning
my snazzy eclipse glasses,
both compliments of my employer,
I gazed up at the sun,
first a small bite at the edge missing,
then sucessively larger dark bites
until only a thin crescent of sun was visible.
the crows did caw in the diminished light
(or perhaps they always do)
in the last hour, the crooked smile of the crescent 
rotated counterclockwise until it finally
opened to a wide grin and the sun reappeared
as round and bright as ever.
Afterwards, we wandered back to our offices
with stiff necks, eclipse glasses in hand,
perhaps wondering if we should have gone
to Wyoming to see the full eclipse.
Maybe next time.

Sunday, August 20, 2017

In the dressing room


don't look too carefully in the dressing room,
a sideways glance is good enough to decide
and I said yes
yes to stripes and corrugation
to red, black and white, to a silky black top
at 40% off, affordable.
it's summer and I'm wearing the same style
of sandal as K, who advised me never to 
wear a T-shirt again
at my age, I guess I should have known better
how difficult and tortuous is the path
to adulthood and beyond.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

on the bus


on the bus home,
really, home, where there's blueberries
in the side yard, and stacks of cucumbers,
tomatoes on the vine,
a black dog who won't bother to greet me.
there will be a husband who will hug me
and a bed covered with his clothing and 
dirty socks and I'll throw them off the other side.
home is where I belong,
in spite of the black dog who never bothers
to say hello, and the clothes
and dirty dishes.
home is where I belong.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

please


please give me a treat 
if I'm good, I'll be good, I'll
walk by your side, I'll do whatever
a dog can do.
please take me for a walk,
I like to pee on the bushes
and  mark where the deer have 
left their scat, I'll come
back whenever you have a treat 
in your hand.
I am a simple soul to love
with my wagging tail and 
liquid eyes, my furry body
and my affectionate for you.
love me, give me a treat,
I'll love you back.