Sunday stillness slides
gently inside and softly
rests for a moment.
~
And in that stillness,
my fellow poet resides,
wordless and at rest.
Sunday stillness slides
gently inside and softly
rests for a moment.
~
And in that stillness,
my fellow poet resides,
wordless and at rest.
On a hot summer
evening, counting fireflies
cooled rising tempers.
~
Cool summer mornings
ease any lingering heat
fireflies did not suppress.
Unceasing motion
is never sustainable:
just ask all my aching joints.
~
There’s always a price
to pay for too much of what
would otherwise be quite good.
Crows complain their way
through the morning mist as doves
coo in soft wonder.
~
During morning rains,
iridescent grackles gripe.
Nightjars, wisely, lounge abed.
Flashes of insight
help clarify what needs to
follow. Sometimes it’s nothing.
~
Flashes of lightning
illuminate and highlight
some things maybe best unseen.
Allegheny dawn:
Cool, even in high summer.
Mountain morning mist rises.
~
Knox’s dawn was packed
with squirrels and he rose hot
to chase each and every one.
Seeing so many
squirrels at the bird feeder, Knox
perked up. He had work to do.
~
A good dog’s labors
wait for no one’s permission.
They’re a call a dog must heed.
That huge red-headed
quickly flew away.
woodpecker raised eyebrows, then
~
He may be timid
and stunningly beautiful
but he’ll destroy your siding.
Love, tucked deep inside,
is looking for a way out.
Let’s extend a hand.
~
An extended hand
even one offered in love
can be taken as a threat.
Broad vistas appeal
in a way close confines can’t.
The converse is also true.
~
Whether limited
or limitless views, it’s up
to us to choose when and where.
Though the rain persists,
my spirit is not dampened.
I know the sun shall return.
~
In the transition
between raining and sunshine,
the sky’s an artists delight.
The ides of July,
dawn to cool refreshing breeze,
soon turns thick and syrupy.
~
For a brief moment
July relinquished its bold
claim to beastly heat.
What is it about
us humans that we travel
afar in search of what’s here?
~
Have you not been told?
The grass is always greener
the farther you get from home.
Holding on to junk
long past its useful purpose
can hardly be a virtue.
~
Practicality
frequently takes the back seat
to sentimentality.
When days are packed full,
it’s important to take time
for a bit of spaciousness.
~
Vast empty spaces,
ultimately, get packed full;
nature abhors a vacuum.
How can people act
so completely soullessly
and still call themselves righteous?
~
Righteousness can be
a convenient cover-up
for self-serving behavior.
Day Lilies show us
a way to greet the day, but
I’ll go with Weeping Willow.
~
Willows gentle sway
reminds us of ocean swells
and the wombs rocking comfort.
Looks like summer heat
or grandchildren’s invasion
has stifled your pen, partner.
~
Stifled and swamped, I
inadvertently laid my
pen to rest. I’ll rally soon.
Having overslept
overworked to compensate
and so scribble some drivel…
~
Scribbling drivel
is better than the nothing
I can do these days.
For all its blessings
modern technology can
be the devil to work with.
~
Seems the road to Hell
Ain’t paved with good intentions
but rather printed circuits!
Modern politics
bears a strong resemblance
to Pacific Cargo Cults.
~
Such resemblances
abound, but are seldom seen
by so-called civilized folks.
Smokey skies reflect
our lack of care for the earth.
When will we wake up and look?
~
As the heat rises,
it’s business as usual
like those proverbial frogs
It’s a miracle
poets lived to scribe again
after days like yesterday.
~
For folks who like short
poems such days encourage
writers to oblige.