Time marches onward,

relentlessly toward post time

and I remain unprepared.

~

Nevertheless you

and I persist. We show up

and sometimes poetry comes.

When our leaders put

both reason and compassion 

aside, what is left?

~

Demagoguery,

knee-jerk ideology,

and “fairly unbalanced” news.

On returning home

I find, much to my chagrin,

reason’s still on holiday.

~

It’s been quite a trip

here at home since reason has

fled for parts unknown.

As the time draws near

for your return, what do you

hope to bring with you?

~

Broadened perspectives,

a deeper understanding,

and so many memories!

As we wing from one

adventure to another,

can we find time to reflect?

~

Time for reflection

will come soon enough; for now

just enjoy your adventures.

We really do care,

and we hope our leaders find

a way back to caring too.

~

And if they do not,

do we care sufficiently

to replace our leadership?

Change trains in Brussels:

an hour hardly seems time

for great poetry to sprout.

~

May small brussel sprouts

of poetry nourish you

 as you journey on.

When did outright lies

come to be preferred over

basic human rights?

~

Trump’s America:

Where the only human right

is to lie despite the cost.

In old Amsterdam

there’s a quality of light

that defies explanation

~

Appreciation

without explanation can

result in a deep delight.

Defending what is

indefensible won’t make

America great again.

~

Restoring greatness:

exercise for foolish men

who perceive some fall from grace.

Still Paris morning

punctuated by pigeon,

Parisians still slumber.

~

Taking time to eat,

taking time to rest? Foreign

ideas abound.

Whispers of wonder

accompany my driving.

Bet you’re not surprised.

~

Unlikely whispers

were what you heard while driving.

Could you use a hearing test?

Wandering the Louvre,

wondering where people are;

Ahh! Queued for Mona Lisa!

~

“Are you a daft prick?”,

he exclaimed in clear disdain,

“Man, It’s just a bloody wall!”

~

What is it about

pricks, disdain, and walls? Could they

be a package deal?

My phone reports storms

Four thousand miles away;

“Seek shelter at once!”

~

You’ll have lots of time

to reminisce over this

extraordinary near miss!

Though separated

by an ocean, we connect

by technology.

~

And mostly that works

despite glitches and delay;

there is no perfect system.

Unrestrained passions

thwarted by circumstances

yield uncontained strife.

~

There’s no vacation

from the drama of humans

no matter how far you go.

You’re up in the air,

flying over deep waters

as I sit grounded at home.

~

Even great poets

struggle with rhythm and rhyme

at thirty-nine thousand feet.

May your travels bring

a hearty restoration

of body and soul.

~

And May those who stay

keep the home fires burning;

the hearth, warm and welcoming.

It’s a marathon

I guess, since I’ve been sprinting

for days sans a finish line.

~

The light slowly dawns –

 when we cross the finish line

life’s marathon is over.

Like everyone else,

poets sometimes drop the ball

when juggling so many.

~

At least falling balls,

dropped by these errant poets,

do less damage than chainsaws.

Who could really care

at which end their candle’s lit

when it’s in a blast furnace?

~

We prove our mettle

and afterwards our light is

revealed to the world.

On a perfect day

such as this, sunny but not

too hot, we beam too.

~

These rough-hewn sunbeams

drag a reluctant smile

even from craggy faces.

Some won’t understand;

often labor must be done

to prepare a place for play.

~

Love’s labor is not

lost when preparing a place

for self or others to play.

They say what’s past is

past, but those who keep dragging

it into now disagree.

~

Is it irony

or folly that this undead past

somehow teaches them nothing?

A ceremony

can be a thing of beauty…

or a purgatory stay.

~

Whether we’re lifted

up or buried under makes

all the difference.