Dancing in the dark,

those lightning bugs bring pleasure

to all who see them.

~

Raving in the dark

those who blind themselves equate

Conspiracy with Justice.

Some people keep score,

not by account balances

but, by services rendered.

~

Settling scores or

keeping them can be a trap

that ensnares us with numbers.

When there are no words,

we sometimes try to speak

but fail to get what we seek.

~

Silence speaks volumes

if one has the natural wit

to sit still and listen close.

Poetic effort

is, sometimes, not required

for the pen to hit the pad.

~

But without effort

and poetry, we mainly

end up with just lists.

We’re a free country.

May we always remember

the price so many have paid.

~

But do not believe

they made those sacrifices

so we could limit freedoms.

This brief epitaph

seems such poor punctuation

for the story of a life.

~

Unidentified

lives matter too and were shown

here the respect they deserve.

So many moments

of potential joy if we’d

only notice them.

~

More than just notice,

harvesting potential joy

requires an active choice.

Somewhere in between

being and nothingness we

find something worth living for.

~

Many different

reasons for living are found,

but choices abound.

Four in the morning.

I awake to a day filled

with moonlight and I smile.

~

By seven o’clock,

rain supplants that bright moonlight,

and yet, I smile as well.

A day on the road

does provide ample fodder

to inspire many rhymes.

~

But sometimes it leaves

us so tired we must first

take time to unwind.

Even if we don’t

have answers, you’d think we could

at least have some good questions.

~

We have good questions!

We just need them considered,

Not drowned in hostile soundbites.

The world that’s seen by

hummingbirds and butterflies

is a sight for our sore eyes.

~

A wider spectrum

and multiple lenses can

make a midden beautiful.

Early morning rain

awakens me… not my brain…

it leaves that to my bladder.

~

When nature calls, our

bodies must answer even

if our brains prefer to rest.

.

Begorrah, my dog,

Your warmth is like an anchor

Binding me here to this bed.

~

Saphira, my cat,

your constant meowing drives

me protesting from my bed.

Tiny flecks of light

dance in the late evening sky.

wishing us goodnight.

~

Careless of mere bats,

heeding old gospel tunes,

they let their little lights shine.

Hopes and dreams linger

like fading recollections

of once momentous events.

~

Perhaps hopes and dreams

are reluctant to leave til

they become events.

On the other hand,

What if we’re the only ones

modeling true leadership?

~

Change begins at home

they say. Perhaps modeling

such true leadership would spread.

The week begins with

warmth and light. May we model

those qualities too.

~

Optimistically,

if we manifest these traits

society will follow.

They say, “S#!t happens.”

And although that might seem trite,

that don’t make it any fun!

~

When s#!t overflows,

a constipated moment

is much to be desired.

Here at my house, folks

laze in bed. Unlike the sun

they refuse to rise and shine.

~

Lazing in the bed

has much to recommend it,

if dosed in moderation.

Do we reach beyond

our normal, rational, selves

when we presume to create?

~

Indeed it is true

and life is more interesting

when we do so reach.

As poets we don’t

know where our words will take us,

but we do enjoy the ride.

~

We find pleasure in

knowing neither origin

nor direction in our work.

Endless fertile fields

upon which to stake a claim,

but where to sink the auger.

~

Be sure you avoid

fields you find boring even

though others find them fertile.

To carry or not

to carry an umbrella …

that was yesterday’s question.

~

Yesterday’s rainfall

would likely have exceeded

any umbrella’s limits.

Rising and shining

is considered virtuous.

Is this just propaganda?

~

Sinking and dimming

aren’t considered virtuous,

but appeal to the weary.

Pollen covered pond

lies still, waiting for the rain

to wash its troubles away.

~

Careless are the trees,

scattering widely their seed,

hoping to impregnate fish?

Why are invasive

flowers all so beautiful

and equally reviled?

~

It could be said that

we’ve gotten it wrong and that

we are the real invaders.

A small, dark creature

scampered across the yard. I

was relieved it had no stripes.

~

I enjoy it when

small darknesses come calling;

the great dark blobs-not so much.

Dear, I hope you know

family stories poking fun

all translate to “I Love You”.

~

When we count the ways

family members show their love,

some add while others subtract.