Hovering

Hovering, then darting left, right, up down

Buzzing, high  pitched, loud 

how could a drone ever sneak up and look in 

the window without you noticing?

One who could sleep through loud snoring

would jump up to look.

down on the ground, a technician expertly

controls the drone in the sky, her soft brown curls

slightly moving with the wind, 

the sun at her back. 

Insight Blasts Off

Miraculously, it landed unharmed

after many months, many miles, surviving

a descent through a fiery ball.

Our little robot will drill and drill,

sensing heat and Martian vibrations,

if only we could have sent Corey and Donald

along for the ride, their tears staining their faces

as Washington, D.C. receded into the distance,

aware that they would be the last to 

seek scientific truth.

Elyse

She hasn't aged a bit
her face softly framed by mousy brown
that wise smile
why did I stay away so long?
my heart pours out to her
the abyss recedes
and the marbles roll in their orbit
a bit more slowly.

Cake

Cake,

she's sweet with her blond curls

and pink cowl neck sweater.

we're sweet on cake,

chocolate with roasted almonds

we're happy with wine glasses in hand

as the snow blows in gale-force

the windows rattle,

it's warm inside, wine and cake

cake, it's sweet

she's sweet

we're sweet.

Saying Thanks

he's walking again
I don't have to fetch his dinner or
walk the dog twice a day.
he's walking again and we were out in the
sun today, waiting for Bella to finish hunting
for mice.
he's riding his bike again, with a modified
crank arm and in sandals, but the pedals
are turning.
he tries to stand steady on a balance board,
I try, too, and we both fail, flipping
from one side to the other.
I'm saying thanks for a respite from
caregiving, for a companion for a short walk
on a sunny day.
I'm thankful for Stephen.

Making granola

my love is talking about lead-pedestrian intervals

at a dingy hall with a bunch of transportation planners.

I'm measuring out 12 cups of oatmeal, 2 cups

of roasted, not salted, almonds, a few handfuls of 

sunflower and pumpkin seeds.

I love the softness of oats against my hands

and the crunch of nuts between my teeth.

it's cold outside and my car is covered in snow,

the dog is on a play date and all I hear is the ticking

of the clocks that happen to work.

Just another massacre

I've lost count
The country shrugs and moves on
The NRA talks about containing the mentally ill
And those with guns hug them close
Then go buy more ammo.
One never knows.
My friend worked a few blocks away
In this sleepy middle/upper middle bedroom community
It won't happen here
Until it does and as the country shrugs and moves on
You grieve your dead
Your life will never be the same
You will never lose count again.

The old need to die

In a few years, I will need to die,

To leave behind outdated ideas, prejudices

That still rattle in my brain, that I contain as best

I can, we are old, remembering when Martin Luther

King was shot, cheering for black civil rights

But still formed by the culture of our time.

Make way for the young ones who don't blink

When they meet an LGBTQ or attend a gay wedding,

Who don't recoil at the wisdom of science, or

Debate whether women should be in the workplace.

Let their disgust bring our country and the world to

New hope, the old must die, the future of 

Our Earth demands it.

The holidays

She has thirty cousins, and family spread over
Multiple states,  family text messages so plentiful
She can ignore 50% without missing a thing.
What bounty!
She'll be with her extended family at Thanksgiving
Laughing and cooking, no invitation needed from
This clan, they are family.
He has a wife and a dog, his fractured family is bitter.
Thankful for the love he has, but wishful for a crowd that
Surrounds him with love all year round, a crowd to eat turkey,
A wishfulness that never goes away.

The house to myself

Dinner at 8 p.m.
A toasted piece of naan, a bit of cheese
And sliced tomato from the garden.
Some wine.
Bella got a walk around the block before
I left to leisurely go food shopping
And after.
No one to listen to or walk around, the house is mine,
Mine, mine!
I love him so, the husband, but to have the house to myself
For a bit, so divine.