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A Simple Question

I was born
The petals of my life flower burst open
My shoots ached to touch the sky
Roots reached down embracing Mother Earth’s hug
Bees came, and I was pollinated
My youngens sprout at my feet
Frosts came and robbed me of my face
Springs return gave me back my voice
And sunshine ruled my every day
And now my old brittle petals close back again
The night attracts with stars and luminous futility
I once came to see and now long for sleep
Withering stems
And low-slung pistils
Call me home to Mother Earth
And I must answer
We all must answer
Because the simple question envelops us
But Nature doth fulfill and fails—
Clover softly calls us to assume fallow
And the warm soil receives our kind

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Sure As Felicity Follows Terpsichore

The Ice Queen turned from the window
The curtain folds draped back into proper place
She was again content in her Keep
Having begun to forget his absent face

While the snow salted the pines
Squirrels burrowed deep in their nests
The Ice Queen folded into her chair
Dinner as ignored as her discontents

She recalled his rude voice:

“Please give me back my delta—
Any seat on any levee on the Mississippi,
I gotta get back to Nawlins,
Sure as Felicity St. follows Terpsichore.

So take that cork out of vin St Francis
To go where we’ve been before,
Sonoma will have to do
Waiting for my Crescent City encore.”

But the Ice Queen felt a shiver versal of her own—

The ghost of a loss lingered lumpen there
Left hard upon her heart of gold
A tale one could tell of mind, body, and soul
If ever one was to be so bold

She’d been that comely lass with golden locks long,
Lovely as the dawn in the Spring;
Now she kept to her Keep,
Love a scoffed-at trifle, a mere unknotted string

But a heart-twist pulled her up short—

Where am I going?
Who will lead me there?
The fog isn’t lifting
And I fear the very air!

Are you really in love?
I know I would like to be;
Could we soon catch up somewhere?
Could you tarry with someone odd like me?

A dread expanded where certainty fled—

One day without you
Is a rainy day at the zoo;
Another night without you:
A starless, moonless night too blue;

She allowed: Come on over….

My Lady combed her silken, yet gold locks
And made her ministrations for bed.
She remembered her lists for the morrow
And made her solo cooling path to bed.

His eyes and tossed locks followed her to her dreams—
He to his beloved Delta, She to her duty and schemes.
The curtain folds draped back with proper straight lace,
She again content in her Keep and all in its correct place.

Our National League

Down and dirty
‘Round the bend
Yes this election
Will meet its end

Who’s gonna win
I kinda don’t care
It doesn’t matter
Who sits in the Oval Chair

Cuz the real power
Resides in the House
[It’s just our representatives
Have the brains of a mouse]

So come Nov 9th
The mess will be over
And we can turn our thoughts
To Spring and green clover

On Hilary! On Donald!
Or whoever makes chief dobbin
Remember that the best news of the year is:
Cubs win! Cubs win!! Cubs win!!!

A Rainy Spring Weekend

So, have you decided to come on over
And do some boy and girl things:
Consume Moon Pies while making eyes
Listening to records as the hippy gypsie sings?
We could walk down to the gulch;
Maybe even while holding hands,
Traipsing along while wrenching a song
From one of our favorite rock and roll bands.
I like the Stones and Zeppelin.
Yeah, Taylor Swift is totally cool—
I like ‘Blank Space’ and her girly-girly face,
Just wisht she’d finally find a suitable fool.
But, down pours them Spring rains
And our Sophomore finals are coming fast.
My Dad says I have to make A’s,
So seems Sunday’s schedule is cast.
Maybe next weekend you can visit
And we’ll do boy and girl stuff—
Laughing at jokes like regular folks;
Seems these weekends are never long enough.

Vinaigrette Sunset

the grass is cut,
the clippings all swept away,
as the sun whittles down
the end of this third April Sunday.
cat meows for dinner,
his feed dish piled up high;
as the laundry waits for folding—
the clothes at last are all dry.
what nonsense will the week bring?
will I continue being so alone?
as unanswered are my dreams
and dusty the bell inside an unrung phone.
see, the Moon rises
and Spring toddles on,
as a one-row Cajun accordion still calls
after all these long years gone.

I’m Here

The Sun fell down the usual way:
Gold to pink to black.
The end of another tawny Spring day,
And no, they’re not coming back.

Too many deaths on Hall 5:
Cancer, Dementia, and Heart Attack;
Old and young lives fading away;
Don’t care our hospice census is on track.

The Moon creeped out its old way:
Half to gibbous on passing high;
Poor professionals lacking an out to pray—
Is it really okay for the licensed to cry?

Tomorrow returns the Sun in bust:
Azure to pink to hot white.
Not only families ache when loved ones return to dust.
Come, sit, and let’s talk a mite….

See The Sun

See the Sun,
Laughin with me:
Ha Ha, where ya gonna be?
See the Sun,
Laughin with you:
Ha Ha, whatcha wanna do?

Out the door,
To the park!
Run and Jump,
Sing with the lark.
Back at home,
Into the fridge.
Knowing you
Sucha privlege.

See the Sun,
Ha Ha, laughin with me!
See the Sun,
Ha Ha, laughin with you!

I just wantsta be
All up next to you!