If the answer is

blowing in the wind, my son,

I wish it would blow my way.

~

Sadly, my mother,

like that Oklahoma home,

all answers done blowed away.

Let us pass a time

in quiet contemplation

of artistic synchrony

~

Though unplanned, we both

entered a non-doing time

in artistic synchrony.

We humans are slow

learners. I hope we catch on

before we run out of time.

~

Life’s a marathon.

There is just no benefit

in being fast off the mark.

A blush among green

and nipping morning breezes

indicate that summer’s done.

~

Some trees are blushing

from embarrassment over

Autumn’s sudden kiss.

Small accomplishments

can be satisfying in

a really big way.

~

And when those small things

come together in one place,

they often make something great.

As the days shorten

and longer nights become cool,

growing chore lists are the rule.

~

Cooler weather joined

with approaching holidays

make our chore lists climb.

Invaded by youth,

my quiet space is infused

with resounding energy.

~

Being suffused by

the patience of Job, surely

you’ll survive that south land wind.

All that excitement,

packed up and blown off northward.

Now! To clean-up afterwards…

~

Only one big branch

fell in a wind we worried

would bring us destructive hell.

Last night’s flaming sky

brought us warmth as we waited

for today’s big storm.

~

As the rains begin,

the temperature remains cool

and the winds begin to blow.

What’s a little wind

and a trace amount of rain

in the cosmic scheme of things?

~

Sometimes the cosmos

seems to tease. What on earth is

it going to bring?

At the close of day

I’m ready to read and rest,

but Knox pleads to play.

~

You need a doggie

treadmill and a robot maid

so everybody’s happy.

Walking a mile

in my shoes is just the start

for you to understand me.

~

Knowing what connects

you to the ground is a start

toward understanding.

As the sky readies

for rain, the defiant sun

insists on shining.

~

Shining endlessly,

eclipsed by moon and weather,

it persists indifferently.

Grim reminders stand

testament to foolish men

in Manassas’ fallow fields.

~

What occurred there changed

the assumptions made. The fight

endured. War is not civil.

Surprised stores don’t have

Easter stuff on display since

they market Christmas in May.

~

Such is the nature

of holiday marketing.

Naturally, it makes no sense!

The mere threat of rain

causes some to cancel plans

but others plan on dancing.

~

Rain or shine, to dance

or not to dance remains the

eternal question.

What a difference

it would make if we’d compost

over-ripe issues.

~

Compost all you want.

Once you’ve got that rot managed,

someone’s sure to bring fresh fruit.

Do trees view with dread

the sundering of their leaves

and winter’s coming hunger?

~

Or are they grateful

for a respite from all that

weighty carrying?

Speeding through our lives

we fail to yield to tiny

passing moments of wonder.

~

Such hasty living

never made much sense to me.

Rushing headlong to our death.

Change is not merely

necessary for living,

change and life are one.

~

Have we then become

life-deniers when we keep

playing the same well-loved song.?

Who needs movies when

comedy and drama can

be found at the bird feeder?

~

A microcosm

representing life’s foibles,

displayed innocuously.

Sunny flowers bloom

in roadside drainage ditches

and other wasted spaces.

~

Though not planted and

not tended, they transform

places where they land.

On our evening walk

Knox runs with sticks, rolls in grass,

sniffs the grass. I stroll along.

~

A tolerant grin

ghosts across your face, I’m sure,

as you regard his antics.

These late summer days,

just cool enough to suggest

approaching autumn weather.

~

Every year we fall

for these hopeful previews of

coolness and color.

The sun and clouds are

starting a warm discussion

as the day begins.

~

As their discussions

always get overheated,

I predict there will be tears.

Sudden heavy rains

make sodden, heavy branches

and fill branches to their banks.

~

You can bank on this:

heavy, fallen branches can

branch out into ponds and creeks.

Ever so slowly

realizations start to dawn.

What took us so long?

~

As dawn’s light begins

to slowly imbrue the sky,

darkness yields, but grudgingly.

Hedonistic joy

can not be sustainable

without, first, doing hard work.

~

Joy, an unearned gift,

sometimes lies unopened when

we’re preoccupied with work.

At day’s end when we

are all tuckered out, we just

want to be tucked in.

~

Slipping ‘neath the sheets

and falling into slumber

buoy us for tomorrow.

That fallen tree branch

expressed his indignation

as I bent to pick him up.

~

He was protesting

your human assumption he

was a cheap pickup.