The president’s mind

is mirrored in the state of

the reflecting pool.

~

Both are filled with slime.

I will leave it up to you

to reflect on noxiousness.

A respite, though brief,

makes the returning of grief

feel, all the more, like a thief.

~

And when grief returns

it comes with all our baggage

which we hoped we’d left behind.

His specialty is

gilding the pig and never

leaving what’s great untarnished.

~

Like old King Midas,

he thinks all he has is gold,

yet his gluttony craves more.

Even morning rain

little dissipates the heat

focused on that blue/green pool

~

They say, like the prez,

it’s green with envy over

all that was before.

Another call for

high winds and possible hail.

At least it’s cooler.

~

Ahh… but not for long!

Virginia and stickiness

spend all summer hand in hand.

Peaceful country nights,

unburdened by urban shriek,

scarcely can be called silent.

~

But for the most part,

nature’s night music is more

soothing than those urban shrieks.

A flash flood of chores

must have suddenly sent all

your inspiration down stream.

~

In a lightning flash

my home fell into darkness…

poetry be damned.

On this day my thoughts

turn to my brother Jack who

would have turned eighty today.

~

Flag Day often brings

old storytellers to mind

and long may their banner wave!

Finding harmony

on the hottest summer days

requires shade and breezes.

~

But our president

throws shade and finds lying such

a breeze that he heats things up.

Orange and purple

flowers dance beside the road

waving hello and goodbye.

~

Among them cavort

multicolored butterflies

animate flowers themselves.

First it was your knee

and afterwards was my back

but our wits and hands still work.

~

About our minds there’s

some debate but we will just

keep soldiering on.

Sometimes a thousand

boos can communicate more

than a thousand words.

~

Communication

requires both mouths to speak

and also an ear to hear.

As I sit, waiting

for a doctor running late,

on timeliness, I cogitate.

~

Another timeless

moment to sit and wonder

how, when, where, and why.

Twas the ongoing

conversation between wind

and trees that inspired me.

~

Gentle whispered words

in a little known language

still convey strong emotions.

Crepe Myrtle’s blooming.

It’s 99 by the pool.

Where are the back to school sales?

~

99 percent sure

you got the temperature wrong

as well as the month.

All night long that owl

kept asking the same question,

but never got an answer.

~

Some old birds never

ever shoot straight from the hip

preferring obfuscation.

Ignoring the news,

as relaxing as it seems,

plays into the scumbag’s hand.

~

Ignorance is his

trading card. None of us should

ever play his game.

As the temperature

rises, we look back on those

past few perfect weeks with thanks.

~

Just so long as we

don’t depend on the weather

to barometer our joy.

Why not declare war

on everyone everywhere

all at once? Stop wasting time!

~

With that line of thought

he will surely appoint you

to his cabinet.

Make America

sane again where merit comes

before ego and profit.

~

Ego and profit,

in case you hadn’t noticed,

are the merits he perceives.

From the floor, salvaged

sage fortune cookie wisdom;

“Creativity soon come”.

~

Floored by the wisdom

and am looking forward to

creativity’s visit.

Right now if the moon

you are looking at is blue,

you’re likely on drugs.

~

Or, you might just be

headed toward it super fast,

risking one huge speeding fine.

These old men moving

all the while wondering

where have all the young men gone.

~

They are probably

sitting, unmoving, playing

on their devices.

With the sun so bright

and the temperature just right,

who would want to fight?

~

Only those who miss

out on this beautiful day

laboring indoors instead?

Summer thunderstorms

fill the sky with vibrant light

recharging moods and spirits

~

But when lightning strikes

close to us, our mo0d shifts to

one of high alarm.

A poem’s searching

for a missing son. Let us 

know if you get word.

~

He’s knocking around,

up to his neck in yard work

and various other things.

As the days fly by,

sometimes they take our poems

with them and we wonder why.

~

Ready for summer,

and all of that which that entails,

poems must abide a time.

Judging from the way

I resist, you’d think someone

else wrote my chore list.

~

External loci

never instill desire

quite like an internal drive.

Social media

Slower than Pony Express

Bringing bad news from afar

~

By whatever means,

bad news is not something we’re

happy to receive.