How did this happen,

with all days accounted for,

That we have this spare?

~

Today, the desert

seduces my camera,

drawing me deeper therein.

~

The desert we see

invites creativity

and we’re happy to oblige.

It’s aptly called PPD

which it seems my son and I

frequently personify.

~

Poetry demands

attentive observation

more so than prompt production.

Endless amber grass

broken by obsidian

make this landscape alien

~

Yet you’re forever

fascinated by all that’s

strange and new to you.

As the storm rages

we sit in the dark, thankful

for a safe shelter.

~

Shelter from life’s storms,

and other disturbances,

should be basic human rights.

In West Texas sand,

sun baked ranchers try to raise

any thing that will endure.

~

Sometimes you need to

raise a ruckus before you

find what will endure.

CBS has lost

both its sense of humor and

its independence.

~

And, anon, will lose

integrity and respect,

not to mention audience.

Hours down the road

one thing remains a constant;

other drivers are vexing.

~

Such consistency

 makes unfamiliar places

feel like we’re back home.

An angry puppet

who doesn’t know he has strings  –

our puppet in chief.

~

Those fine puppet strings,

unnoticeable at first,

soon become the hangman’s knot.

What kind of bias

allows true fans to ignore

old men behind the curtains?

~

They see what they want

to see, hear what they want to

hear, ignore the rest.

A great welcome home

from Knox and the cats. It feels

great to have been missed.

~

Not so great for me.

My return to home involves

emergency dentistry.

On returning home,

the relief of arriving

is tempered by road fatigue.

~

And the next morning

we awake refreshed, ready

to begin again.

White waves wash over

 sandy shore leaving many

battered shells behind.

~

Yet life teems anew,

blossoming in every nook,

amid that desolation.

Contentious debate

over trivial details

fills some people’s hollow souls.

~

When you’re driving on

empty, you’ll do anything

to keep on going.

The sound of the waves

slowly drowns out the chatter

of my busy mind.

~

Given enough time,

the ocean’s aural caress

will calm the tempest within.

Gathering with friends

after a lengthy absence,

old rhythms quickly return

~

Like the ocean waves,

our words ebb and flow while

the sun rises and then sets.

Even when we’re on

vacation, neighbors back home

mind stalk us, knock on mind’s door.

~

Some busy bodies,

try to fill their hollow lives

in whatever ways they can.

This sickly green pool

has been a long vexation

killing my chance to relax!

~

It’s not the pool that’s

green. It’s me green with envy,

coveting your pool.

Sun kissed the ocean

goodbye with a promise to

return tomorrow.

~

The sun’s sure return

is the absolute constant

guaranteed us in this life.

What we choose to give

says everything about us;

so much more than what we take.

~

In the give and take

of life, giving comes from love,

taking from need for power

In our capital

a rooster announces he’s

bringing forth a brand new day.

~

He’s there struttin’ ’round,

croakin’ loud his cockiness,

acting all the barnyard pimp.

Great expectations,

much like equally great dreads,

rarely prove to be that great.

~

But how can we deal

with mediocrity when

we prefer extremes?

Code red’s been issued,

but for the weather or for

whosit’s big beautiful bill?

~

Storms will pass quickly

but this bill’s devastation

will leave lasting injuries.

“The undeserving

finally get what they deserve

from my Big Beautiful Bill.”

~

I assume you are

talking about those who are

quite rich and undeserving.

The last day of June

greets us with the promise of

even hotter days to come,

~

Summer’s here at last

and in six months or so

we’ll be longing for this heat.

Notoriety

means people love our poems

even before we write them.

~

Trump wants to know how

we pulled this off because such

tactics are his specialty.

When you get to be

a certain age you get stuck

on memory lane.

~

There is an allure

to dwell in the distant past,

basking in its golden glow.

Ancient Sycamores

shed old bark to keep growing.

The same applies to Nations.

~

But when the old bark

refuses to leave, is it

time to plant new trees?

Not looking both ways,

those three deer hurried across

the road and didn’t look back.

~

Whether through hubris

or just vacant disregard,

they place much faith in drivers!

Slick condensation

fogs the outside of the glass

in this humid pre-dawn gloom.

~

But as time moves on

the fog disappears and gloom’s

transformed by sunlight.