If I am not free

to disagree civilly,

can I be called truly free?

~

Is it the land of

the free when peaceful protests

and selected books are banned?

When will we ever

learn that enough is really

and truly enough?

~

Enough is enough?

Egregious quitter talk

To the mass consumptionists!

Does the fact we can

contemplate God’s existence

imply we Do have free will?

~

The fact that we can

affirm, deny, or ignore

suggests that we do.

Watching my green lawn

slowly fill with yellow blooms

won’t endear me to neighbors.

~

All yellow blossoms

are not, by nature, evil,

Unless you’re a greenskeeper.

Is humanity,

I fervently hope and pray,

more than just taxonomy?

~

We can only hope

humanity will become

defined by its humaneness.

I don’t know if those

two woodpeckers thought they could

bring down that tree but they tried.

~

Woodpeckers prefer

their trees to remain upright.

That way, their snacks are cleaner.

Why won’t current flow

Through my tractor as it should

Instead of through my ankle?

~

Could the current be

telling you that you’re the one

that needs to get up and go?

Yellow butterfly

flits about in morning light,

glad the rain has stopped.

~

Our Irish kin say

it is a departed soul

peaceful in the afterlife.

Earth Day came and went

And I didn’t mow the lawn

or at least not all of it.

~

I’m sure the birds sang

with joy not to have to

compete with that lawn mower.

The sun failed to bless

us with golden light on this

gloomy Sunday morn.

~

Overcast brings joy

Of another caliber

to life’s peaceful arsenal

Old Albert Hofmann,

the day after biking high,

pressed onward in his research.

~

He had hopes that through

LSD we’d come to see

nature and ourselves deeply.

Hoping to find some

magic, they traveled the world.

All the time, it was at home.

~

Using arcane keys

found on various journeys

opened hidden doors to them.

When linemen gather

Discussing state of the art

Sparks are sure to fly

–

When poets gather

the sparks they strike create rhymes

in search of created verse.

The road was lined with

buttercups bringing color

to an otherwise gray day.

~

Though the grey highway

winds its way into the gloom

buttercups gild its passage.

Somewhere in between

My idea and your reading

A poem is born

~

And even if not

one person reads it, it’s here

alive and waiting.

Knox briefly paused, then

quickly chased that retreating

fox, inviting him to play.

~

As the quick brown fox,

spying a quite spry young pup,

chose to quickly quit the field.

As days grow longer,

instead of dancing all night,

why choose an early bedtime.?

~

Choices increase as

options expand. How will we

spend this increase in daylight?

They dine together,

those two cardinals, but take

time for a beak to beak kiss.

~

Those beaky smoochers

need to be together more

to curtail public displays!

Awash in numbers

Eyes pulsating with fatigue

Just take the money, I beg!

~

All our resources

are taxed by April fifteenth

each and every year.

Before the sun’s up

they are, these cats, dogs, and birds,

telling us to rise and shine.

~

Choose not to succumb

no matter how insistent

their demanding seems

Must poetry be

analyzed and sterilized

in professorial form?

~

Not unless you want

poetry to slowly be

stripped of its vitality.

Eclipse was eclipsed

by Knox’s discovery

of nearby squirrels and sticks.

~

Nature in all forms,

From eclipses to lichens,

deserves our rapt attention.

If you’re doing good

so they’ll see you being good

you’re, likely, not really good.

~

The why can be as

important as the what, but

the good that is done still counts.

Clear skies, sunlit trees,

birdsong in the air – why stay

inside when all that’s out there?

~

The air is quite crisp

and the birdsong’s wanting for

the redolence of wood smoke.

Dreamy denizens

Scatter like the fey of old

At the alarm’s first shrilling

~

Those who live inside

nearly collide in their rush

for their morning meal.

Checking out seems to

be our family’s tendency.

It’s about heredity.

~

But we still check in…

with some gentle needling

and unsubtle wheedling.

That geezer in checks?

He’s not trying to be cool;

He’s just an old boomer nerd.

~

At a certain point

being cool is no longer

hot. Being comfortable is.

Trees, bushes, flowers,

and grass all welcome April’s

gift of needed rain.

~

Though rivers run wide,

drowning riparian blooms,

they nourish future flowers.

Fond recollections

and a chance to reminisce

drive us many mile from home.

~

Long drives are made much

easier with companions

and shared memories.

Tricks aren’t confined to

April 1st if you are Trump

or part of his team.

~

It’s less about “tricks”,

in my humble opinion,

than the illusion of “treats”.