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Monday, April 24, 2017

There's No Stopping Life

A week from today
Off to see aunt Charlotte--
Thence to Seattle.

A soft opening--
Sun cannot tell  time of day;
Afternoon? Morning?

Between gray slate tiles
Dandelions pop their heads.
There's no stopping life.

Billowing Spring scents
Up the road and tantalize,
Touching my nostrils.

Sole forsythia
Climbs higher than its fellows,
Heading for the sun.

Perpetual dog
Barks every time I walk past;
(I never see him).

Single daffodil
Pops up where the crocuses
Bloomed and disappeared.

Angry thoughts collide
With the sky and fragrant woods
Leaving me senseless.

(State of Cat No-Mind)

Walk of April 23, 2017

Bright Sunday morning,
Yellows and whites colliding
In front of my house.

One lone bird chirping
Fills the empty space around
And around around.

Wind chimes single note,
Answered by another note--
A wind led duet.

Shadows on the sign
Etched in dark parallel lines
Draw some attention.

High up the driveway
Cat sits while meditating
(State of cat no-mind)

Mabel sits and barks
Her gruff and friendly bark--
Always while sitting.

Forgotten dirt field
Now filled with small yellow lights.
(They have not forgotten).

Shadows and branches
Mix in the high noon dry sun.
(Phantom or substance?)

Saturday, April 22, 2017

What Is Her Sorrow?

Today is Earth Day--
Gray, cold and threatening rain.
(They could have picked June).

Bird feeder's empty;
My pocket's empty too.
(Two are connected).

This year no lilacs
But willowy white bush blooms--
Never disappoints.

Wild goose near the pond
Stretches his neck very high
Like a periscope.

Deep in the forest
A mourning dove coos softly;
What is her sorrow?

A bush full of drops
Flowers by side of the road
Clear liquid blossoms.

Burst of white flowers
Crowns the trio of tree stumps--
Elegant Spring shroud.

Painting trees and rocks
Lichen assumes its Spring hue:
A sickly chartreuse.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Phantoms Rule the Sky

 Phantoms rule the sky,
Covering all the mountains 
With a blue gray mist.

Can it be brighter,
The forsythia outside?
Each day more brilliant.

By what force battered,
This proud stand of Pampas grass
Flattened to the ground?

Stretching their fingers
Into the mute blank gray sky:
Silhouetted trees.

Soaring above me--
Wild geese follow the leader--
Perfect formation.

At base of the pole
A strange yellow blob resides;
(Why does it sit there?)

Sun shines through the mist;
Not a brilliant "breaking through",
Just a milky glow.

Crocuses are gone;
Their week long span of brilliance
Waits another year.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

New White in the Gloom

New white in the gloom--
Flowers have burst overnight.
(Still, I want to stay).

Gray and cold today;
Maybe I'll walk half a walk.
(Future lies ahead).

There are no lilacs;
Rhododendrons are waiting;
Cows present their ass.

Cold wind up the road;
Goat is peacefully eating.
I keep on trudging.

Dark skies paint the stream
With moving rippling shadows.
As above, below.

Broken wooden fence--
Not an act of God or wind,
But a neighbor's car.

Four trash cans standing
Next to the four mail boxes--
To fill or empty.

Woods are dull and brown;
No creature rustles in them.
Still they are singing.