Caught in a vortex,

not the fun Sedona kind,

some things fall by the wayside.

~

Sometimes we let them

go and sometimes we retrace

our steps, bend, and pick them up.

Summer colds aren’t so

hot, which is why, believe it

or not, I have gone to pot.

~

Smoking wacky weed

won’t quite make breathing a breeze,

but will shift your perspective.

Our lives like rivers

Roaring from their origins

Meandering near the end

~

Flowing along ’til

at last they join ocean’s vast

and open embrace.

Listen to the crows.

They can teach you how to crow

and squawk as needed.

~

Such learning must be

mandatory for those in

political arenas.

Some people never

learn from making huge mistakes;

naming them great victories.

~

Thinking they can’t be

outtrumped, they simply move on

to another game.

I was all booked up

and ready to read, but fell

fast asleep instead.

~

Your body informs,

in ways that books never will,

exactly what you needed.

Some reap benefits

as if it were their just due;

eschewing obligations.

~

And the question is

why do we elect them so

they can do what they just do.

What does it say if

one continues to support

what is unsupportable?

~

Some can not admit

any error in judgement

fearing what truth will reveal.

If a President’s

guilty of financial crimes,

why should I pay my taxes?

~

You are better than

the former president as

are all honest citizens.

No need to lose your

cool. Just grab this chance to walk

your heated emotions off.

~

I’d need lots more shoes

to walk off the endless heat

from his vapid rhetoric.

As the spring succumbs

to summer prematurely,

will we, somehow, keep our cool?

~

In the last few days,

Spring made a major comeback

thus helping us keep our cool.

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.