floating pie

floating pie with butter pats

missing wings 

she reaches for the sky in her

new flip flops but her toes are too far below,

she is too short to grab the pie

still unbaked,

the oven broiling the kitchen

in summer heat, she's sweating

and reaching and hoping for

sweetness and butter and berries.

getting serious

no kidding around anymore

no scribbled notes on lined paper

this is serious business

this is an exercise book for flute,

not just any book, but books 1-6.

i never did books 1-5.

much to learn

always much to learn about why

I hear the clatter of forks and knives

across the street as our neighbor we cared for

over her years of misery spends time with

our friends, yes, we who cared

for her during her darkest years

are not welcome.

thank goodness for the purity of flute,

the pure sound of song, 

for this, I am grateful.

Passed out

passed out in the vet's office

her leash still attached, she's not going anywhere

soon

until she can at least walk out on her own 

four paws.

so stoic with a foxtail stuck deep in her ear

no wonder she wouldn't even move her eyes

to look at me

sedation and a long tweezer to pull it out.

now everytime she scratches her ears or

shakes her head, we will worry about foxtails,

we will dream of foxtails

tenacious sticky foxtails

and the poor animals to whom

they stick.

the neighborhood meeting

they all brought a lawn chair
the Secretary balances her laptop on her knees
the police are there with their report
the President scrawls notes in impossibly small letters,
I think he works for the CIA,
he is so secretive and doesn't seem to get anything done
after endless officer meetings.
He smiles with a far off look in his eyes.
Joel is talking out of turn and is reprimanded by
the Secretary,
he slouches away with his dog, Roe.
I think she'd be a good playmate for Bella.
The D family complain about high school students
smoking at the curb, like they always do, knowing
there is no solution but it feels good to talk about it
and Stephen checks his phone for distraction.
Rachael and Mary are yawning, Don is getting ready
for attack mode on his favorite issues.
I admit I disappeared with the excuse to check on
Bella, who really does not need checking,
she's still passed out from her vet visit,
but I'd rather be with her.

my brother the iPhone wizard and general renaissance man

among other things,
he cooks pork ribs all day until they melt in your mouth,
lillies, impatients, ripe tomatoes thrive in his garden,
I listen to the sound of the waterfall flow into
his pond filled with golden, white and black koi,
a drink in my hand, Camembert and baguette near by,
the table set with matching napkins and sparkling water.
don't forget he saves companies and bikes hundreds
of miles without breaking a sweat,
installs skylights and attic fans,
navigates Apps and even
stops floods in their tracks.
uncle, husband, brother, son and friend.
He even has a nice smile.
my brother is amazing.
I love him for all he is.

Seeing through the clouds

he has clouds in his eyes
and flying dust bunnies jump and drift
across his moving landscape
of voltage and current spikes,
an occasional lightning strike,
the crackle of sparks in the dark.
tomorrow the clouds will lift and
the horizon will be flat and smooth,
the world in complete focus,
as sharp as his mind.

Molly

if only the world were a safer place
for such a beautiful smile, so open and warm,
eyes that shine out with intelligence and wit,
i know this about her even though i do not know her
innocence taken, the innocence of a late evening stroll
with two dogs out for their last sniff of the day,
their last pee on the bushes,
all those she left behind against her will,
the world should be a safer place
and in its absence, in her absence, the
world grieves.