
You’re interesting
Alluring, mysterious
You’re my morning fog
A haiku
A metaphor poem
You’re interesting
Alluring, mysterious
You’re my morning fog
A haiku
A metaphor poem
My Bedroom Windows Are Never Closed
My bedroom windows are never closed
I won’t miss a moment of nature
Every season full of sights and sounds
My blanket layers always in flux.
Spring brings the early birds’ dawn chorus
April showers and peepers return
Vixens cry for their mates in the dark
My bedroom windows are never closed
Lightning bugs blink against summer screens
Katydids sing from oak tops at night
Cicada buzz loudly fills warm days
I won’t miss a moment of nature
Great horned, barred and screech hoots fill fall nights
Sun rises reveal jewel-toned forest
Southbound Canada geese honk above
Every season full of sights and sounds
Woodpeckers tap winter’s leafless trees
Moon shadows dance from a clear night sky
Woodstove heat meets snowflakes drifting down
My blanket layers always in flux.
A cascade poem
When we met you gave
Me a bouquet of red flags
The most perfect gift
Early hour thunderstorm
Lightening
Fills darkness like a
Flicked switch
I am reminded of my insignificance
As thunder quakes my home foundation to peak
Snow Angels
Plastic wrap gaiters secured with twine protect the transition from cotton sweatpants to leather work boots.
A well-tuned rumble shattering the muffled morning as he heads up the hill to my drive.
Snowy morning smell replaced by fumes of gas and oil immediately unearthing memories of my dad.
This vintage machine, made when machines were mostly metal, is piloted by ages of experience and a depth of mechanical knowledge I envy. It displaces snow practically, usefully, purposefully, precisely out of the way so I can move another machine about which I know so little.
“I’ll help you with the heavy snow at the end of the drive” he says while idling. “Thank you so much” I say. “Just being neighborly” he says, the end of the sentiment engulfed by the increasing throttle as he turns, heading back down the hill to home.
The cushioned silence greets me as I open the door. It’s early enough that snowblower rattles and shovel scrapes are not yet replacing Carolina Wren song.
Plodding through inches of snow, I am not yet ready to begin the tasks required to accommodate a normal day’s activities.
Heading to a flat open spot covered deep in snow, I fall backwards without worry, certain this mattress of frozen hexagons will catch me softly, conforming to my curves as much as any memory foam.
Smiling into the blue sky I move my long arms and legs in arcs, uselessly, impractically, for no reason but sensation, for no purpose but pleasure.
Sole Laid Bare
I believe myself spontaneous
Finding routine extraneous
Then my ego is bruised
After removing my shoes
My truth revealed is instantaneous
A Limerick Poem
Light and Shade
One sun rose on us today, kindled over our shores, peeking over the Smokies, greeting the faces of the Great Lakes, spreading a simple truth across the Great Plains, then charging across the Rockies.
When day comes we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never ending shade?
In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.
But seek no honor in my shadow. I will give you no hiding place down here.
Lift up your eyes upon this day breaking for you.
A Cento Poem created from lines of past Inaugural addresses. After listening and watching Amanda Gorman’s poem recitation at the recent Inauguration I became curious about past Inauguration poems. I found them and started looking for common themes between them.
The lines above are from the following poems:
Angelou, M. (1993). On the pulse of morning. (Bill Clinton’s Inauguration 1993)
Alexander, E. (2009). Praise song for the day. (Barak Obama’s Inauguration 2009)
Blanco, R. (2013) One Today. (President Barak Obama’s Inauguration 2013)
Gorman, A. (2021), The Hill We Climb. (President Joe Biden’s Inauguration 2021)
Loop Trails
Starting and ending in the same place
Everything new along the way
Views from many directions
Nothing revisited
Surprises around
Each new bend yet
The end is
Still the
Same
Point-to-Point Trail
Traveling in just one direction
No retracing or revisits
Only one chance for success
Every obstacle new
Just one perspective
Discovering
Half of life
As you
Move.