Hands poised on the keys.

I begin to type, but what

comes out is nonsense and tripe.

~

Today, there’s no time.

Taxes take priority,

poetry- the second seat.

It’s hard to find joy

when the world is exploding

in sorrow and misery.

~

But just this morning

I watched a male cardinal pick

up a seed and feed his mate.

Some not-so-little

birds told me it was past time

for them to be fed.

~

Even little birds

use their outside voices to

advertise big appetites.

When the bully gets

a pass on his behavior,

can he learn bullying’s wrong?

~

He learns instead to

continue his assaults as

he boasts of his “successes”.

Out on the pond geese

gather as they travel to

other ponds, other places.

~

Like Geese, Traveling

Men gather in fellowship

on their way to foreign lands.

This late into spring,

breathing its last icy gasp,

winter waves a sad goodbye.

~

But winter always

keeps its promises and will

frostily return.

The cedar tree said

to the dogwood, “You’re a

blooming idiot.”

~

The dogwood replied

to the cedar, sniffling,

“You gymnosperms make me sneeze.”

Sometimes it’s subtle;

other times, a tornado.

Either way, he bears ill will.

~

Ill will sweeps our land

as many imitate our

Tornado-In-Chief.

As the darkness fades

and the son slowly rises,

the pets ask me to rise too.

~

It’s the day for that.

As even dogs remember,

he rose to dispel darkness.

At a loss for words

maybe rather serious

for those who die by the pen.

~

But you came back to

life when the decision was

made to type instead.

What a different

world we’d see if love were our

guide instead of fear.

~

“Love’s the greatest fear”,

some learned in their infancy;

a vast fount of endless pain.

Interconnection

can be great so long as none

are hell-bent on destruction.

~

When destruction trumps

compassion and connection,

don’t elect him president.

April welcomes us

with sunshine and flowers, but

asks us to wait for showers.

~

And when showers come

they bring with them fireworks

to brighten moods damped by rain.

Some say all trees

have a right to grow and be…

These forty foot weeds, less so.

~

And yet the soil

welcomed them and gave them space

to expand and grow.

The green budded trees

reach for the sky announcing

a new season has arrived.

~

Legions of seasons

all in a day; Virginia

weather, kind of, goes that way.

Spring Beauties blooming

beside Common Violets

craft a springtime lawn mosaic.

~

Birds dining beside

squirrels create a picture

that enthralls our cats.

After so many

learning opportunities,

shouldn’t we be geniuses?

~

Opportunities

knock with such a frequency

we’ve all learned suspiciousness.

Civic engagement,

even when not signed up for,

always a worthwhile task.

~

It becomes harder

when such engagement is not

also civil engagement.

~

What’s more civically

engaging than a little

civil disobedience?

~

Civic engagement

in the form of “good trouble“

is done civilly.

Round and round Trump goes.

Where he’ll stop nobody knows.

He’s a human roulette wheel.

~

But how should he bet;

Since the only winning move,

is to never play the game?

Why name them Red Buds,

these sentinels of springtime,

when their buds are more purple?

~

Beats me, but that tree

by any other name would

still be just as sweet.

Dandelions dance

in the sunlight. They’re making

their Spring appearance.

~

All the lawn’s a stage

and all the flowers players

in the vibrant rites of spring.

Be not quick to judge

the competence of others.

All of us have had bad days.

~

It’s when those days

turn into years that we start

to confirm our fears.

Tiny bits of sun

have fallen upon our lawn

and put down their roots.

~

From those tiny roots,

with the help of some rainfall,

glorious gardens will grow.

Saturday sometimes

murders my motivation,

instigating indolence.

~

Sometimes we all need

a chance to let effort die

and indolence come alive.

Before I even

walk through the door, the dogs start

barking their welcome.

~

Their barking begins

before you exit the car!

Connoisseurs of gravel crunch.

When the door slams shut,

will you regret words exchanged

or will you seethe in fury?

~

On both sides of slammed

doors are hearts and minds that can

choose to open or stay closed.

What story are you

telling yourself today? Are

you open to revision?

~

Every day, a tale,

scripted by unchecked ego

unhampered by editor.

From these wind-blown trees

many leafy leprechauns

lay insensate on the lawn.

~

Trees and leaves wanted

to honor Saint Patrick in

the only way they knew how.

As prepared as we

can be for a storm we hope

we will never see.

~

Storms. They come and go.

Even if we are ready,

we’ll have messes when they’re gone.