As we grow older,

do we all lose our patience

for incessant yammering?

~

There are those who would

say this is true except when

yammering is done by you.

We who pride ourselves

on being open-minded,

sometimes close up shop.

~

Even hard working

illegal immigrants need

a day off from time to time.

Lost amid this mad

obfuscatory verbiage,

is there some dark agenda?

~

I’ve never heard of

a clear agenda hiding

in a dark pile of words.

I honor those teens

who walked out to remind us

not to fiddle while Rome burns.

~

While barbarians

within hinted at assaults

awaiting without the walls.

Why do I not fear

the growing youthful protests

the way my grandparents did?

~

Perhaps it’s because 

you saw your parents shake off

their parents’ limiting fear.

Can anything be

said for this season’s latest

whiteout cover-up?

~

Like most cover-ups,

they almost never survive

the brutal, stark, light of day.

This snowy sojourn

quickly nears its conclusion

but perhaps, not quick enough.

~

Your comment reveals

your age. Any kid knows snow

is better if it lingers.

What secrets do trees

share, whispering in the wind

as day turns to night?

~

They share the blessing

of the life giving sunlight

and bounty of this good earth.

Trekking over hills

and into darkened hollows,

what oddities might be found?

~

That same question might

be asked by those who tread through

darkened White House halls.

Oh no, they’ve forecast

snow. What a back and forth time

we are living in.

~

Inconsistency

has become, these days it seems,

America’s calling card.

Like some film noir

version of “Meet the Parents”;

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?

~

Try not to star in 

this particular film noir.

Swallow your words. Eat discreet.

There’s no escaping

family, no matter how far

you go. Thanks for being there.

~

That’s what family’s for;

being there, even from here,

a thousand miles away.

So much for planning!

We’re rolling with the punches;

unexpected snow showers.

~

All is not lost. You

and your camera will  capture

the unexpected.

So far what have you

learned from your joint venture to

the great state of Missouri?

~

Lightning in woodlands

and lightning on the prairies

are very different beasties.

Why not place tariffs

on presidential blather,

a for sure money maker?

–

Then, we could get paid

by the word not the thought like

thirties pulp fiction writers.

Today March lions,

roaring and blustering, stalk

across the greening landscape.

~

Shifting winds sweep o’er

our land, imitating Trump

and his policies and tweets.

As you embark on

this road trip with your son, what

are you looking forward to?

~

Time away from work,

places to go and people

to see and pictures to take.

Alabaster bones

standing, clad, in tattered rags,

beside the quiet river.

~

A horrifying

sight or just some sycamores

clad in winter attire?

It’s true, isn’t it,

that some days it’s just one thing

after another?

~

On a day like that

it’s sometimes best to breathe deep

and pray for some contrition.

On the other hand,

those Marching lions and Lamb’s

will wreck the early flowers.

~

Unless the lion

lies down with the lamb and from

them flowers can grow.

As February

draws to a close, is there one

thing about it you will miss?

~

What is there to miss;

the variable weather

and raging influenza?

Marching up and down

a rainy college campus;

not highly recommended.

~

You mean you were not

singing a jaunty tune as

you marched to a younger beat?

Maybe we should move

from Ars Politico to

Ars Poetica.

~

On what we focus

tends to fill our frame of mind

coloring all other scenes.

Is there some omen

in that murder of corvids

swarming about the flagpole?

~

How does that saying

go – ” run it up the flagpole

and see who salutes”?

Even birds know when

to tweet and when not to – a

feat beyond our president.

~

Foolish sparrows tweet

when the hawks are circling,

thinking they’re invincible.

A day without news

even sponsored by illness

has been a welcome respite.

~

Sometimes we just need

a newsless break to gather

will and wit to compensate.

If our leaders were

mentally healthy we’d have

rational gun control laws.

~

Fear and self loathing

weigh heavily on the mind

even of powerful souls.

When the foggy dawn

is the perfect metaphor

for my sinuses, what then?

~

Your body of work

will consist of fog and phlegm,

but not a cold heart.

Lately I’ve wondered,

on these dial-your-weather

days, which dark souls select bleak.

~

The bleakest weather

selected by darkest souls

cannot dampen joyful hearts.