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Wednesday, June 15, 2011

This Year a Woodchuck

Once again I take a break from my beloved Yerry Hill Road to go to Appel Farm Arts Camp in southern New Jersey. This will be my twenty-fifth summer as resident old fart, head counselor and theater director. So I exchange the rolling wonder of my neighborhood for the flat lands of New Jersey. I bid all who come here a lovely and peaceful summer, and thanks for visiting.

Warm mid-June morn;
Sun shines off green bushes.
Last walk before camp.

New flowers--new pot;
New caretaker of my house.
The old road beckons.

Tall dandelions
Populating my front lawn
Seem to crane their necks.

Fluttering its wings,
Bird settles in the long grass--
Disappears, rises.

How often I've walked,
Transcending the familiar
With my routine mind.

Old lady on porch
Allows sun to caress her;
We smile together.

Pop blooms by the road;
Path of shadows in the woods;
Endless mysteries.

I watch the dark woods
As a friend drives by and waves
Bringing his own light.

Last year a bear came
To say goodbye on my walk;
This year a woodchuck

Wednesday, June 08, 2011

Pulling Me Forward

Even as they wilt,
These pink flowers exude life.
What is their secret?

Lone dandelion
By the side of my slate path
Glows in solitude.

Fields of buttercups
Transform green fields to yellow;
Twinkling the eye.

A small truck drives past
Leaving a breeze in its wake.
Welcome, pickup wind!

St. Francis in Spring
Surrounded by bright flowers;
(Not drowning in snow).

A faery blue haze
Lights up a patch in the woods.
Where does it come from?

The familiar bend
Snakes down hill in all seasons
Pulling me forward.

A warm musty smell
Comes from the rundown old shack--
Scents of memories.

Tuesday, June 07, 2011

Must They Also Go?

Faint smell of wood smoke
Drifts over the dappled lawn;
Thoughts of the winter.

How long will they last,
These violet rhododendrons?
Must they also go?

Empty flower pot
Sat all winter on the porch.
Now, clover grows there.

Two roosters crowing;
They're in the very same barn.
Birds rise from the field.

A small busy bee
Sucks at miniature flower;
(For tiny sweetness?)

On the shadowed road
Memories dart in and out;
Saw hums like insects.

Still figure on porch;
(I'm not certain what it is);
Comes to life and waves.

A new mullein plant
Spreads its softly fuzzy leaves
Waiting to be used.

Monday, June 06, 2011

The Woods Are Darker--The Woods Are Lighter

Two birds on the porch
Flutter against unexpected cage;
Freedom's just outside.

Olivia moos,
Counterpoint to the bird cries
Background to the sun.

Gentle morning sun
Mixes with the puffy clouds
Which float on the wind.

Lone bird on a wire--
Stationary silhouette
Painted by the sky.

Non leaves on the road
Shaky reflections of life;
Dark absence of light.

Sunlight ushers forth
Sliding into the dark woods
Slipping on the road.

Captured in green leaves,
Bright sunlight cannot escape;
It can only glow.

The woods are darker
Under the light of the sun;
The woods are lighter.

Saturday, June 04, 2011

And Who Was I Then?

How swiftly the sun
Passes from blazing to haze;
How swiftly my moods.

Stella sits quietly
While bird cries echo outside;
Quiet overall.

In shade of the trees
A gathering of ghosts sit
In comfortable chairs.

The peaceful dark stream
Was covered with ice and snow;
And who was I then?

Shadows bend the road;
Sunshine dapples the dark woods;
All is light and dark.

Edge of the deep woods,
Buttercups reflect the sun--
Portals to darkness.

Fragrant white flower
Pricks as I go to smell it--
Always a pay back.

Christmas ornaments
Stood out in the hard winter;
Now embraced in Spring.

Wednesday, June 01, 2011

Choreographed Grass

Ferns out my window
As if I planted them there
Spread out their green arms.

My rhododendrons
Sing "Halleluia" at sun,
Spreading purple light.

Lilacs are over;
Purple replaced by brown cones.
(I saw a daisy.)

Field of timothy
Waves slowly in the soft breeze;
Choreographed grass.

Yellow and purple
Decorate fences and fields
Against the green plain.

Prehistoric leaf;
Big enough for dinosaur
To bend down and eat.

A time of shadows,
A gift of the blazing sun;
The heat and the shade.

Even its hard shell
Cannot protect the turtle
From the rushing car.