Like Minds

Not many
scattered
like fossil finds

relics
resistant to
acquisitive deeds

Cassandras
consigned as
anachronists

stragglers
still dancing to
the planet’s rhythms

old flower petals
floating on
watershed streams.

Phlox in the Junkyard

Patches of pink phlox
bouquets of beauty
eye-arresting
amongst junkyard stuff

voluptuous color
stunning companions
for rusty sculptures
of old pick-up trucks

dueling esthetics
suggestive tableau
of his and hers
in whimsical art show.

Most Perfect Soul

A most perfect soul
is the hummingbird
fluttering fast and free
tasting the sweetest nectars

a glittering vision
speed-flitting through space
dispatched perhaps
from beyond the thither.

Tulip Greetings

One hundred tulips glowing
radiating red

posed in triumphal rows
for spring aficionados

prospecting bees and butterflies
miscellaneous passers-by

particularly the Canada geese
fixtures in opposite field

basking in
this brilliant incandescence.

Static Language

Indiscriminate beads
strung along a thread
leading to nowhere

speechifying mischief
counterfeit refrains
without persuasion

impotent opinions
philosophic jousts
stripped of consequence

rapping choristers
extravagant sophists
overloading the circuits

descent into babble
jabberwocky traps
until nothing reveals

marooned humanity
lost in evolution
incommunicado.

Surface Tension

Fragile fabric stretched taut
separating states
coherence and chaos

invisible veneer
few molecules thick
in delicate equilibrium

tied down, held down
by anchored ornaments
of civilized illusions

keepers of society
in fairy-tale safety
from Darwinian triage.

Rome and the Barbarians

Barbarians
within, without
aggressors all

acquisitive
ignorant
still primitive

alpha warriors
dangerous schemes
without reason

Rome teetering
cut adrift
from wisdom

hegemony’s act
abbreviated
on rapacious stage.

Post-Contemporary Domiciles

Some columns from Tara
a Parthenon-style porch
windows by Palladio
gargoyles for gutter spouts

Quebeckian curved roof
with Monticello dome
hellenistic pediments
arches from Caesar’s Rome

Eiffel-like ironwork
wraparound porticos
towers of Irish fieldstone
with opposing gazebos

intricate embellishments
in Victorian fashion
eclectic architecture for
happy-ever-after mansions.

Perfect Poems

Plotting poetic course
across current of words

weaving telltale threads
in contextual motif

exercising word play
to pitch-perfect potential

sharpening phrases
to metaphoric edge

carving for brevity
in slices of exactness

reaching for Eternity
as Miss Dickinson did.

Transition Zone

Stepping on an icy floe
melting faster than before

six decades of finished life
left behind on terra firma

setting course for two or more
depending on the weather.

Morning Walk

A plethora of companions
inhabit my morning walk
wood thrush with its vibrato
gently bowing cosmos
rippling meadow grasses
vast palettes of blues and greens

I enter a boggy vista
with lily-dotted pondscape
bankside cattail stands
rampaging purple loosestrife
genial joe-pye weed
bathed in delicious, tundral air

I fill my imaginary basket
with lemon-flavored blooms
vetch, yarrow, daisy fleabane
bunches of trumpet flowers
occasional morning glories
primroses, intricate leaves

interloper on this scene
I feel my sublimating soul
dispersed by soft-winged breezes
absorbed into the firmament
in pause with all its atoms
singing silent hallelujahs

I step onto the forest trail
knee deep in feathery ferns
a soaring quiet fills the space
held up by arching branches
the lowly path must lead me back
to human occupations.

Evolution of a Marriage

Me
he
we

them
them
them
them

we
we
we
we

he or me
me or he
them and them.

Snowman

Snow-built buddha
living its cycle
temporarily
in perpetuity

benevolent icon
brought to being
by human touch
sculpting nature

nirvana’s aspect
blessing the peace
silently cleansing
before renewal

gentle visitation
ephemeral link
transforming soon
to born-again spring.

Dogsled Ride

Joyous pursuit of forward motion
coalescing as single force

unleashed to fly without wings
like Apollo hauling the sun

undulating pure sensation
obligated to go, go, go

gliding across crisp-clean snow
toward illusive finish line

racing to catch the spinning earth
for launch into transcendent space.

Botanical Families

Vines envelop
a family tree
in earnest

fresh tendrils
overshoot
familiar limbs

add-on grafts
introduce
exotic forms

withered stems
disappear
without notice

mutant others
smother
lineal memory.

Tulips Vivants

I suspect cut tulips frolic
like Tchaikovsky’s suite of toys
when the household sleeps and dreams

wishing to adjust positions
like Degas’ ballerinas
bowing, dipping and tossing heads

rejecting hierarchic rank
like Van Gogh’s sunny flowers
each one angling for best exposure

dramatizing pure euphoria
like Beethoven’s Ode to Joy
rendered here in glorious color.

Who's Next?

Dinosaurs outdone
trilobites expunged
wary cockroaches
tortoises hang on

great white extant
dodo bird gone
crested cranes yes
not one mastodon

predatory bugs
bacteria galore
no more aurochs
or giant moas

toads persevere
quagga erased
brown/white zebroid
from Africa’s plain

Miss Waldron’s red
colobus monkey
missing from Ghana
quite likely extinct

great auks silent
also heath hens
humans unscathed yet
in evolution’s games.

Molehills Matter

Molehills matter
icy patch
curb surprise
rolling root
uneven ground

molehills matter
careful steps
firmer grips
steeper slopes
increased odds

molehills matter
misplaced names
vision gaps
slow recall
brain mistakes

molehills matter
after sixty.

Home Movies

Museum of fleeting images
canvas-fitted window frames
apple tree in Van Gogh’s style
flowers in wild profusion
bluebirds queuing up for baths
refracted through looking glass

pastiche of picture-moments
dusty memories, vivid scenes
eager downhill sledders
scavengers for Easter eggs
hordes of quick running feet
accumulating seasons

tapestry of mullioned views
slow motion and fast action
ephemera of outside art
cycled through panes of time
reels rewinding to unwind
panoply of home place.

Random Painting

Art grotesquerie of sorts
relics of Americana
still life bizarrely arranged
floating as basement clutter
uncomfortably composed.

Artful deed of inference
symbols from simpler past
seemingly in raised relief
evocative with power
linking wistful now to then.

Ours Not the Only Universe

Ours not the only universe
cosmologists hypothesize
one of many quantum bubbles
Big Banged, in-a-flash inflated
expanding to gravity’s edge

another human diminution
only an ordinary universe
one of trillion-million ripples
living out its physics-driven cycle
in the endlessness of space-time

no boundaries to the cosmos
with bubbling-up geysers
of incredible universes
evolving, improvising
to more harmonious worlds.

First Day of School

The scarlet tree
first in line
one among green
eager to shine

head of parade
brazenly bright
no time to wait
for fall’s half light

strike up the band
brilliant red cheer
stand and salute
Autumn’s New Year.

Fall Foliage #1

Sitting inside a landscape
of reinforcing light and color

north woods flickering into flame
inexorable its daily spread
blazing through stands of maple
torched treetops of orange, red
on canvas of forest fabric

shifting angles of slanted light
dazzling, diffused, refracted
through myriad leaf filters
stoking up, unleashing
the brilliant fires of autumn

time now to step outside the frame
before this beauty sears my soul.

Vernal Stream

Brimming vernal stream
shedding icy snow melt
with freshet abandon

wending with gravity
in April and May
on its buoyant journey

s-shaped meanders
transforming soon
into meadow grasses

summer eclipsing
its watery imprint
perennially retraced.

Lions Behind the Woodpile

Just back from Africa
lions behind the woodpile

wildlife picture-taking safari
lions behind the woodpile

close-ups of slow-motion elephants
lions behind the woodpile

watchful baboons, cheetah groups
lions behind the woodpile

scarier, big cat encounters
lions behind the woodpile

roaming pride of hungry lions
lions behind the woodpile

hunting for dinner after dark
lions behind the woodpile

alarmingly beside my tent
lions behind the woodpile

cape buffalo selected instead
lions behind the woodpile

grass-fed, free range, gourmet beef
lions still behind the woodpile.

Hominid Beginnings

Hominids at the beginning
watched by wild African eyes
evolving best survival fit
with vast Serengeti’s plain
fertile, untamed, expansive
for grazers and stalking takers

upright, generic creatures
without giraffean neck
eagle eyes, bat-eared hearing
cheetah speed, elephant heft
or zebra’s camouflage cover
just crafty, ferocious lusts

witnesses with conscious ken
sitting beneath acacia shade
separate from passing parade
alone knowing the paradox
ecstasy, sadness, evil, good
in Eden’s garden of choices.

Getaway

One decadent day
fog-enshrouded hours
in Polynesian dream

wine undressing minds
fantasizing fun
in a languid way

jazz igniting
suggestive smiles
engaging glances

gently pulling
interested loins
together again.

Merry Bands of Verbena

Merry bands of verbena
no pondrous sense of being
singing mute and gaudy
in loud existential show

flecks of electric color
exploding in garden plot
pointillistic portrait
outside exuberant bounds

amoral botany bits
oblivious of purpose
responding to the sun
with carefree salutations

particles of attraction
between us incompatibles
reaching across creation
to rhapsodize our moment.

Gardenside Drama

The moving and the rooted
darting flashes, colored splashes
gardenside routine drama

sassy, orange sherbet lilies
undecided peony buds
buzzing rhododendron blooms

phlox flim-flamming spearmint stems
old-maid roses shedding petals
dogwood flowers stuck to leaves

incandescent hummingbirds
swallowtail’s scalloped flight
two sipping purple finches

catbird shrieking loud meows
hobnobbing worm-fed robins
earnest ants at earnest work

grass ruthlessly growing green
chipmunk prepping fast for winter
small gray specks in distant sky.

Bird Spotting

Orchard oriole nine o’clock
in the maple on the right
do you see it, do you see it?

halfway in, good open view
now dropped down in the foliage
do you see it, do you see it?

chestnut-sided handsome flyer
smaller form of Northern kin
do you see it, do you see it?

end of limb at seven o’clock
moving now to vee of tree
do you see it, do you see it?

along main trunk to first branch right
middle left near clump of leaves
do you see it, do you see it?

just jumped up to second limb
on display at very end
YES I SEE IT, YES I SEE IT!

Live Oak Tree

The live oak extends
its southern welcome
defying weather
gravity and time

elongated limbs
untethered in space
floating almost free
resisting earth’s reach

low-country sentinel
inviting climbers
up sinuous routes
to treetop quiet

bird-nest seclusion
for weary creatures
seeking sanctuary
from insatiable change.

Patchwork Memory

What sorts and sears
ordinary living into memory?

Not many childhood days get set
some holidays over episodic others
no linearity in remembering
just snapshots of lived-in time

intense mothering deeds forgot
vivid family details blur
lifetimes crammed somewhere
retrievable as bits and pieces

first love, first work, first this and that
some learned facts remain in reach
RNA-tagged for easier recall
in a many-layered mind

extreme events stick wanted or not
exotic sights rise to the top
while accumulating minutes, years
pile up in jumbled memory heap.

How does ordinary living
sort and sear into memory?

Goldfinches and the Cosmos

Heavy heads swaying
with gentlest breezes
cosmos in motion

flimsy stems, feathery limbs
pink, white, claret-red
in graceful motifs

then swinging wildly
with golden finches
in their trapeze mode

hiding, seeking, leaping
in balletic exploits
foraging for treats

darting bud to blossom
creating suspicion
that fun ensues too.

God in a Box

Religions imprison
God in discrete boxes
exclusive, accessorized

inside architecture
of fantastic promises
conditional guarantees

dichotomous truth-telling
heaven or hell, in or out
tolerating not one doubt

islands of isolation
distracting human minds
with arbitrary power.

Let the walls come tumbling down
spirituality flow among
finding the peace of Oneness.

Disturbed Areas

Scarred, parched empty Earth
sucked dry of oil and water
treeless deserts blowing in the wind
vanished ice sheets, islands, cities
extinct reefs
lifeless oceans, silent skies
depleted everything
apocalypse to come

humans past wandering free
hunting, gathering, plundering
enough to provide
waste not noticed
ever takers, never stewards
wanting more
and more and more
until no more

humans now overflowing
too little food, even less water
too much fighting
greedy and mean
scorched-earth work
unsustainable
biology winning
not collaboration

Cassandras dismissed
three billion more people
in four decades
still less regard
for impending ruin
no integrated efforts
for equilibrated living
within planetary means

nearing no doubt
that irreversible threshold
for human intervention
if not, then
ditch lilies, blood-red poppies
lovely, Mendelian lupines
inheritors of disturbed areas
will resurrect the Earth.

The Sweetest Sleep

Enveloping, invisible heat
emanates from wood-burning stove
soothes, sedates mind and body
into meditative state

while ensconced on sofa or cot
hypnotized by black box warmth
mind untethers, floats, escapes
ascending to the sweetest sleep

perhaps presaging eternal rest
not like nightly sleeping spells
riven with subliminal struggles
helping unravel daytime life

just an agreeable amnesia
no memory with any texture
unremembered glimpse of nirvana
suffused with ambrosial promise

gentle return to wakefulness
the mind’s cleared of its clutter
no weariness from anxious dreams
just refreshed, contented being.

Preserving a Late Summer's Day

I want to store late summer’s air
densely soft, semi-sweetish
ripening hay, wild grape vapors
evening effusions of nicotiana
for reclamation in cold January.

I want to store late summer’s sounds
its deafening insect chorus
bee brigades, cicadas’ chatter
tree crickets trilling with katydids
for reprise in quiet January.

I want to store late summer’s flowers
willowy cosmos, garish zinnias
dependably blooming petunias
pushy phlox, azure morning glories
for rejoicing in drab January.

I want to store late summer’s garden
flush with ears of corn’s sweet flesh
crispy beans, foot-long squash
tomatoes bursting through their skins
for relishing in bland January.

Then greedily licking my fingers
while dipping into the winter hoard
of backyard hive honey
and homegrown raspberry jam
I can savor summer in January.

Genealogy of the Squirrel

Contemporary, modern, post-modern
full of unfocused angst
obliterated quickly in daily din
of life and death in the universe

academy-driven conventions
obscurantist, heuristic, tautologic
heralds of higher consciousness
deploring the loss of nature

drenched with ego-laden emotions
scripted with missing words
hollowed of any useful meaning
inducing blind mind’s bluff

rather more intriguing now
the unresearched genealogy
of recently returned gray squirrels
long absent this past summer.

Religion as the Anti-Christ

Religion is the anti-Christ
when it favors
Christian over Muslim
Muslim over Jew
believer over non-believer.
Jesus teaches us to love one another.

Religion is the anti-Christ
when it favors
the unborn over the born
the dying over the living
life after death over life on earth.
Jesus teaches us to love one another.

Religion is the anti-Christ
when it favors
men over women
rich over poor
straight people over gay people.
Jesus teaches us to love one another.

Religion is the anti-Christ
when it favors
violence over peace
persecution over tolerance
dogma over reason.
Jesus teaches us to love one another.

Religion is the anti-Christ
when it divides us
when it threatens us
when it punishes us.
Jesus teaches us to love one another.

Why have we forsaken Jesus?

Sorting Through an Overstocked Memory

A passing tableau
black and white cows
grazing, gazing
sends the mind
to familiar place
without a name
for the painter
from Vermont

resistance builds
against remembering
pause the process
talk, think
in alternate track
yet his name
stays away
at memory’s edge

minutes later
the cows return
tickling the mind
tantalizingly close
tip of the tongue
almost, almost

hours later
another peek
through the cobwebs
nearly reveals
a helpful glimpse
still blank unfilled

days later
with no priming
Woody’s name
pops out unannounced
relief comes
with recalling

brain remains
in working order.

Glimpse of a Shadow

A solitary figure
bending in the cornfield
weeds row by row by row
across the patch
nothing out of order
same for many summers

a second glimpse
the figure missing
the field remains
untilled, bereaved
routines gone away
without the farmer

uninvited insight
triggers a vision
of approaching change
mind switches back
unwilling, unable
to consider sadness.

Spring Fling Green

Some trees get dressed up for spring
lime-green swatches of see-through lace
cover exposed, bony frames
still in shades of several grays
leftover from fall strip tease
of color-filled, deciduous leaves.

Branches of oak, maple, birch
fetchingly veiled in gossamer green
exhibit limber, lanky lift
pushing, shoving their youthful way
in lusty bursts of light-green growth
among sedate evergreens.

Delicate swirls of unfurling leaves
give shapely silhouettes to trees
come-hither sites for birthing birds
and hordes of honey-making bees
their sexual secrets soon to be hid
in the dense dark of summer green.