Hark! What is that sound

we hear? Could it be good hearts

singing lullabies to fear?

~

Heart-felt harmonies

with compassionate refrains

muffles discordant malice.

When the world assumes

this lemony patina,

one can’t help but gasp.

~

Can’t make lemonade

out of this patina, so

it’s best to wear a face mask.

How many songs must

the prospective jailbird sing

til someone buys his record?

~

Jailbirds and ConMen

will spin their broken record

until their tunes hit the mark.

Swirling roadside spill,

environmental nightmare!

That’s no yellow paint… Pollen!

~

I take it you fail

to appreciate the fine

artistry of Spring.

A tracery of

new green adorns fields and woods.

Where is there new green in you?

~

 There is certainly

none hiding in my wallet,

given my chosen profession.

Opposites attract,

‘least that’s what they always said.

Where, then, is the common ground?

~

When they each stretch out

their hands to one another

they’ll find common ground.

Children torn from their

parents – an American

dream turns into a nightmare.

~

We the people can

wake up, reverse the nightmare,

elect compassion.

What acerbic fool

insists upon some litmus test

just to show he’s no one’s tool?

~

And fails to realize

all the while that he has

fallen for another’s guile.

Our dogs and Trump

have something in common. They’ll

howl til they get attention.

~

 If your dogs had hands,

they, and the groper in chief

might be even more alike

Solid surety

in politics, poetry;

artful ambiguity

~

Something to strive for

though not easy to achieve

and yet we still try.

Why search far, why search

wide when what you’re looking for

can be found inside?

~

Why bother searching

at all? Why not just sit there

contemplating Vulpine News!

This whipsaw climate,

squeezed between shifting seasons:

can we find stability?

~

Each season has its

reasons and sometimes, like now,

we can’t listen to either.

Oh say can you see

any help for a nation

gone so far astray?

~

Riotous bombast

lights the way forward instead

of righteous indignation

Are some citizens

worth less than any others

based upon the votes they cast?

~

The answer one gives

shows something about one’s own

 qualifications to choose.

While we sing a song

of sixpence, he sits in the

White House counting his money.

~

Sixpence merits song!

Tuppence and a groat is good

when all you got’s ha’pennies

“Self-sufficiency!”

screams the egotistic flea

nestled on giant’s shoulders.

~

From this lofty perch

there is much that he can’t see –

like his own dependency.

Let’s pause and shift gears

and maybe even park our

weary bones, enjoy the brake.

~

Frenetic motion

drives us all too fast to see,

much less smell, any flowers

Everybody needs

helping hands from time to time,

especially the helpers.

~

 Sometimes it’s hard for

helpers to allow themselves

to shift and become the helped.

To know and be known

with acceptance and love – what

could improve on that?

~

Sometimes it’s better

to just do what needs doing

cloaked in anonymity.

Flashing open sign

in a locked and lightless store:

apparent allegory?

~

Sell the illusion

of openness. Maybe they

 won’t notice what’s closed to them.

Smoke and counter-smoke

an eternal carnival

house of distortion mirrors.

~

If our leaders have

the integrity and will,

they’ll smoke out the truth.

Is that the song of

Spring we hear or is Winter

singing an encore?

~

The twitter of birds

argues for the “song of spring”.

Winter’s encore sounds harsher.

Spring is aptly named.

It springs back and forth between

winter and summer.

~

Focus on the sky.

Stormy clouds or sunny smirks

will presage coming weather.

The hole gets deeper,

the more frantically they dig.

Soon they’ll need ladders, not walls.

~

And all those who have

done this unholy digging ?

Buried beneath their own dirt.

What colors does Spring

call forth in you as Winter

slowly says goodbye?

~

My heart’s buoyed by

new blue wellsprings bubbling

‘neath this, long, rusty winter.

Stress, tension, and tics;

side-effects of this rat race,

unless we pause to create.

~

 Relief comes when we

stop running races we can’t

win. Then the fun can begin.

To keep from sinking

in a sea of despair, why

not put on love’s life jacket?

~

Love can drag down

if you surrender reason

in favor of attraction.

Critique, when offered,

even gently, with kindness,

may feel like criticism.

~

Almost always we’re

velcro for the negative,

teflon for the positive.

Do big guns make small

men feel powerful and like

they finally matter?

~

 Impotent men with

their omnipotent egos,

oft cling to firepower.

Don’t expect her to

be all emotive and shit;

That ain’t her style!

~

Words a son who knows

his mom well would say – Thank you

for celebrating this day.