Why is it that we

seldom appreciate what

we had until it is gone?

~

What is near at hand

can be studied close enough

to find every tiny flaw.

A final luncheon

leaves a lasting taste of hope

but what will the next meal bring?

~

Savor the moment

and let it satisfy the 

hungry need to know.

In this uncertain

world, how do we find a way

to walk with surety?

~

Place our feet with care

anticipating quaking

from our fracking President.

Gray and cold and wet

may describe the weather or

perhaps something much grimmer.

~

Didn’t we elect

someone who’s cold, all wet, and

old enough to know better?

Grace under pressure,

not deceit and bluster, is

the mark of courage.

~

Just as bombast is

born of insecurity;

a mark of inner terror.

What kind of a man

keeps right on hurling punches

after having won the fight?

~

An insecure man

who doesn’t know when enough

is enough behaves like this.

When they say what’s true

is false and what’s false is true,

who are we listening to?

~

It must be the news

that’s calling false that what’s true;

that’s what soulless cowards do.

Eighteen yesterday

and sixty eight tomorrow:

what does that mean for today?

~

Behind the “eight” ball

on gradual weather shifts

is what it means for today.

Is that the sound of

his tweets I hear or is it

the chirps of some other bird?

~

Perhaps the Dodo

chirped with such a frequency,

leading to its extinction?

Frigid air and snow

soon to be replaced with balm;

how will we survive it all?

~

If we focus on

what’s right here we can learn

to play it by ear.

When you are back in

the harness, can you still find

a way to be free?

~

Even in traces

our thoughts are free to wander

o’er hills and verdant meadows.

This arctic freezing

that has descended on us;

will it bring only a chill?

~

“Chill” is putting it

mildly. What we’ve got is

a big, bad headache and cold.

Any advice on

how to survive a day with

moody teens and snow?

~

One would imagine

you are seeking suggestions

much more profound than “Just chill.”

The weekend arrives

bathed all in shimmering white;

is it a gift or a curse?

~

One person’s blessing

is another person’s curse.

Snow’s come for better or worse.

In January

a ladybug came into

   our home. Could this be a sign?

~

Auspicious blessings,

in strength as red as the hue,

as long as the count of dots.

Into this grim day,

Chilled by this greyish fatigue,

what can cast a little light?

~

Though the clouds linger,

the sun still made its presence

known, bringing a bit of light.

Their stealth plan to gut

independent review of

their ethics is Trumped. What’s next?

~

When you find the pea,

thinking you have won the game,

look for what the barker’s palmed.

Congestion and cough

may produce prodigious snot;

is it a portent or not?

~

Hard to believe but

scientists claim that snot is

the body’s protective salve.

So the new year is

underway. What can you say

to sustain us in the fray?

~

For better or worse,

at least the new year will bring

new cause for indignation

As a new year dawns

and we awake to darkness,

can we kindle a new light

~

Whenever we act with

love and compassion, joy springs

forth and brings new light.

Twenty Seventeen –

what will it bring? And can we

help love and reason prevail?

~

Good times and bad times

I’ve seen them all, and my dear,

 I am still right here!

An uncrowded street

In this city of millions

provides a moment of peace

~

Perhaps within our

crowded minds, we’ll also find

uncrowded moments of peace.

What is memory

for if not to recall the

best and learn from the worst?

~

Memory must serve

as chronicler of all

thing both great and small.

If it’s tradition

to stand firm against the tide,

how can we bend with the wind?

~

Sometimes it’s wise to

stand firm, sometimes to bend. Let

values, not tradition, guide.

In these days between

what was and what will be, how

should we spend our time?

~

Live for the moment.

Because the past is the past

and the future, unwritten.

Now that merry joy

has run it’s seasonal course,

what still remains of this year?

~

Twenty sixteen has

had its ups and downs but

joy runs through the heart of things.

All those many years

ago in the midst of hate,

love was born. Let’s help it grow.

~

Hatred seems to reign

despite love’s reported strength:

Perhaps Love should exercise?

Will there come a time

when Christmas arrives to find

us joyous and well prepared?

~

Christmas is a time

to discover joy whether

or not we’re prepared.

We remember those

who have gone before, knowing

we are here because of them.

~

As, one day, we’ll be

remembered, for good or ill,

by those who follow.

As calendars grow

increasingly short, can we

still draw out holiday joy?

~

It matters not if

calendars grow short as joy

knows no holiday.