February 21, 2021

Snow Angel


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.

May 1, 2019

Because I Sat

____________________________________

Because I sat for a moment

On a stone bench

Feet on pebbled concrete

I noticed more bird song

With each breath

In

Then

Out

I saw a crow fly above me

With long bits of the garden

In beak

Back

And

Forth

Creating home in a tall white pine

Life was happening

Around me

Not

To

Me

Because I rested

Breathing

In

Then

Out

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A Free Verse Poem

February 23, 2019

Soft Gentle Distraction

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Soft hands are of no interest to me

Is my first thought but I realize

That’s not exactly true.

I’m sort of obsessed with them

Morbidly fascinated by the life lived

Resulting in no calluses, no broken nails

No cracked skin, no permanent grease stains

No dirt (no longer soil) embedded on the side of the index finger

Not a sign of that organic complex that

Supports life in any corner of a nail.

Lives so foreign to me and mine.

And so I sit and stare at hands

Men’s mostly.

Having a different unrealistic absurd standard

For women’s hands.

Not wondering about their soft hands

Not wondering why their soft hands aren’t repulsive

And why men’s soft hands are. To me.

Not wondering why I care at all or

Why I’m not just worried about my own damn self

Or the actual subject of this (yet another) meeting.

Instead here I fixate on pristine doughy man hands

Only wondering if I’m making a face

As I stare.

January 30, 2019

Party Favors

_____________________________________

Silently unfurling

Sunshine and warmth for breath

Celebrating the dormant cold

Quietly and alone

Like me as snowflakes and

Mercury tumble down around.

_____________________________________

Metaphor and simile poem

December 30

IMG_4960

A Ministry Concert at the old Electric Factory in Philadelphia

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Colorful lights

dot the small spaces

left where the instruments

of strings and percussion

and voice did not fill.

These colorful orbs

the only refuge for

lightness and brightness

for two hours

in a reverberating

urban cave.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

A Free Verse Poem

Photo by CJF

November 28

Contumelious

_____________________________________

An archaic term

Old-fashioned, antiquated

Yet we witness living examples daily

On television, on radio

In big white houses and small suburban homes

Perhaps not obsolete but modern

Perhaps not irrelevant but relevant

Perhaps not anachronistic but timely

We need a new way to describe daily horror

Why not use an outmoded term

Describing modern behavior perfectly?

_____________________________________

(A Free Verse Poem)

May 17

Connotation

(Inspired by Pensive or Thoughtful Mood a 1939 sculpture by Stella Elkins Tyler)

_____________________________________

Rubenesque a negative

Willowy a positive

Zaftig to avoid

Slender to attain

Chubby a dislike

Skinny a desire

Stout to loathe

Svelte to long

Why do these words dictate decisions and self-worth

When they say nothing about inner beauty and character?

_____________________________________

(A Decastitch Poem)

March 15 (Throwback)

Urban Education

_____________________________________

Black and white standing on the corner

I’m waiting for the traffic to stop

He rushes in way against the light

I’m still waiting for the traffic to stop.

Street-smart, city-wise he is on his way

I’m still waiting for the traffic to stop.

_____________________________________

(A Throwback Poem)

(A Free verse poem)

February 12

January 12

Life is Sweet

——————————————————–

Why do you let your dreams

Settle at the bottom of your life

Under the weight of the day to day

Like an unstirred blob of honey

At the bottom of a warm mug of tea

Not sweetening the drink

Not making a difference

Resulting in something less enjoyable

Than it could be?

——————————————————–

(A free verse poem)