Cosmological Constant

Morse code messages
twinkling astral dots
meteoric dashes

wild mythologies
bull, bears, and Pegasus
in rotational pursuits

Milky Way streaming
ghostly luminescence
against the blackness

celestial collages
stars, clusters, galaxies
set in four dimensions

infinite grandeur
stretching itself
beyond our force-fit grasp.

Early Morning Communion

Cold and clear
subtly lit
by approaching dawn
Venus and suspended crescent

I see
I feel
I affirm
this sacred moment.

Space Exploration

Calling Andromeda Galaxy
do you hear me, do you see me
looking at you

I see you
magnificent, blurry smudge
beyond my galactic boundary

I a conscious, cognitive speck
collect with unaided eyes your photons
launched 2.5 million years ago

you and I now racing in tandem
toward the farthest edge of this universe
to find another.

October 16, 2009

Liberation day
self-declared independence
I finally let my children go

son Ned thirty-one
daughter Eliza
nearly thirty-five

their lives now completely theirs
no more second, third, fourth-guessing
by Roberta-mother-me

I resolutely stand aside
eager to watch and applaud
their high-stepping parades

relinquishing all my rights
and parental expectations
born with motherhood.

Home Sweet Childhood Home

Nest re-entry
to familiar warmth
unconditional welcome

womb-like comfort
without decisions
except for what to eat

best, easy sleep
wrapped in flyaway dreams
to once upon a time.

Fall Foliage #5

Fallen foliage
convenient to gather

collectible bicolor beauties
scattered in lavish ground displays

strewn as gilded, Persian-red carpets
leading through glittery, magical space

beneath bequeathing birch and maple
dressing down for the season

shedding all much too quickly
hastening our descent to winter.

Book Case

Standing guard
outside the bedroom door
in carefully composed vigil

a sculpture of sorts
artfully pleasing shape
strong vertical and horizontal lines

comforting presence
offering daily salutations
from Africa, Antarctica, a small Norwegian village

richly filled with eclectic details
plotted as past, future, present
mingling with my own existence.

Balancing Act

Delicately balanced
on a volcano
surrounded by ocean

naively ensconced
among Azorean hills
with distracting beauty

while sitting upon
a long, slow fuse
of violent potential

bubbling mud pits
puffing fumaroles
with invisible power

like erratic genes
viruses, prions
embedded faults

ticking silently
inexorably
as nature’s surprise clocks.

Island Refreshment

Around any corner
up from the sea
invisible currents
fluid refreshment

balm for the face
humidity-drenched skin
cooling massage
cleansing sensation

purest distillate
of far-fetched air
gift from Aeolus
for mid-ocean isle.

Family Reunion

Carry me back
to old, red, cotton-bred soil
from whence I sprung

not in a box of bones
just my transit
carved in stone

sown among others
father, mother, siblings
aunts Carrie, Helen

with grandfather Lee
his Miss Bonnie
neither known to me

greats Sam and Eliza
their parents, grands too
Meares, Nash, Terry

ancestor census
seven generations back
to Mary McD. Sherriden

all southern-born
except for Yorkshire Tom
and Dublin’s McDowells

gathered together
as layers of time
in single churchyard of stones

yankee transplant I
last reunion with this tribe
of Carolina kin.

Personal Tectonics

No handholds or footholds
on this wall of today

slippery smooth as limestone
missing familiar patterns

granite edges all dissolved
uncertain of right bearings

something seismic happened
beyond butterfly perturbations

nothing yet revealed
to my agitated force field

personal landscape shifting
hoping for no pole reversal.

Nature's Witness

How will it feel…when
common robins are no more

gray squirrels cease to scamper
as high-wire acrobats

no birdsong reverberates
with dawn’s awakening light

butterflies fail to reappear
without flowers in the spring

the hum of buggy multitudes
is absent from summer air

bluebirds flee over the rainbow
eagles exit through narrowed skies

kangaroos slip past gravity
elephants, tigers close behind

the sun does not rise everyday
seas and oceans lose their tides

landscapes drenched in daily gray
relinquish all disguise

not taking nature for granted
how will it feel without.

North Woods Memory Bank

Beached canoe on lakeshore edge
missing its tousled little lass

two babies lay in those bulrushes
near McDonald’s mid-stream rocks

swallowtails, checkerspots loop by
captured once with childhood hands

rambunctious wildflower bunches
offerings of a small boy’s love

big-rock play springs to life
with hide-and-seek theater

campfire moments toasted well
in magic light of shooting stars

I touch initialed crayon marks
cabin ghosts of growing children

the present resides now in the past
with long dimensions of remembrance.

Self-Portrait at Sixty-Five

Free-floating in the here and now
unencumbered with illusions

starting to trim the sails a bit
tying loose ends more securely

less inclined to climb Mt. Everests
seeking more compatible horizons

urge to simplify intensifying
shedding my accumulated dross

blissful in new grandmother role
grown-up pretensions not allowed

quite content with tandem existence
angles rounded after thirty-six years

life’s next adventure haunting our edges
most likely scripted without the other

anxious though for more carousel rides
while still singing in this silent cosmos.

A Fine May Day on the Concord River

Shifting into Thoreauvian gear
we launch the canoe
in full readiness
for a natural history collecting day

wind-strewn sparkles
race across the bulging surface
leaving ruffled imprints
flowing in their wake

we cruise through the canyon of silver maples
their winged futures rushing past us
waterborne
to downstream rootage

riverbanks brim with yellow-greens
ferns, grasses, wildflower foliage
goose families crowd the shore
redwings crisscross this nesting zone

rich, steeping smells tantalize
delicious tannic teas
decomposing muds
fertility reveals itself

I spot Henry David’s ghost
relaxing in crotch of weathered-sculpted trunk
appreciating
this familiar, redolent regime.

Saturday Night Baths

In quick succession
mourning dove
red-faced house finch
dapper titmouse
quite plump robin
stunning bluebird

chest-deep in water
heads ducking
flurry of splashes
fast flyaways
this beautiful eve
to some avian ball.

Word Sorcerers

Quartet of word sorcerers
geniuses and outliers all
gifted with huge imaginations
William, Vidia, Edith, Emily

placating their literary gods
with sacrifices of the human heart

rich baritone William Maxwell
empathetic, Midwestern pitch
harmonizing urbane intellect
with authentic sensibility

placating his literary gods
with sacrifices of the human heart

dissonant tenor V.S. Naipaul
clear-eyed renderings of humankind
tainted with syncopated anger
Trinidadian, Indian, cynical ex-pat

placating his literary gods
with sacrifices of the human heart

contralto singer Edith Wharton
in anguished, high-society tones
lamentations for cosseted females
caught in genderized, tribal traps

placating her literary gods
with sacrifices of the human heart

purest soprano Emily Dickinson
quiet rebel of lyric conventions
at counterpoint to other voices
with soul-felt exultations

placating her literary gods
with sacrifices of the human heart

intricate, solicitous riffs
exploitative rhythms
staccato of smothered lives
transformative motifs

placating their literary gods
with sacrifices of the human heart.

Spring Message

I spotted an oriole
across the bog
in maple top

he spotted me back
flew over
perched above my sitting rock

sang his seasonal song
harvest this day
the rest matter not at all.

Ancestor Hunt

Hunting for ancestors
through the mists of time
extremely misty

seeking illusions
royal connections
perhaps to Charlemagne

patrilineal this way
matrilineal that way
multiplying bloodlines

adventurous souls
from Irish premises
Welsh and English hamlets

escapees to a new world
from endemic mayhem
to freer patches of soil

recent DNA clues
relegating many
to unpretentious gentry

most unremembered
under weathered rocks

in forgotten plots

except for the O’Sullivans
several valiant Owens
backwards and forwards

Irish knight Sir Owen
linked to English barons
and back to Norman princes

to lordly half-brother
of William the Bastard
alias the Conqueror

later O’Sullivan heirs
settling near Virginia shores
in sixteen fifty-five

John begat Owen
begat Owen II
begat Charles B. Sullivan

migrated farther south
to Carolina grant
among other clans

Terry, Harrison
Wright, Dacus
Hopkins, Arnold

Cureton, Nash
Berry, Dunklin
Mahaffey, Meares

willing patriots all
to the colonial cause
for self-dominion

memorial stones
in Methodist, Baptist
Presbyterian lots

Meares/Terry/McDowell cluster
seven strata deep
in Pisgah Church ground

mostly farmers
single minister
one known abolitionist

Confederate soldier
teachers, dentist
equal rights activist

likely stubborn folks
fiercely loyal
kind and prideful to a fault

as I
as I
as I

soon to join this family queue
of resilient molecules
scattered across the landscape of time.

Life's Challenge

A honeybee happened by
without a stash of pollen
dissatisfied

buzzing around my ear
asking for directions
to the nearest flower

I pointed to a dandelion
off she went
contented again

why not that easy
to guide our lives
to simplest bounty.

Woodland Hymn

Come, sit with me in the woods
and listen
says the wind
swaying trees and rattling branches

rejoice with us
sing the peeping chorus
percussive rhythmists
melodic twitterers
high-pitched hummers
buzzing swarms
occasional scamperists
needle whisperers
dry-leaf chatter across snow cover

and be glad
be glad
be glad
chant all the forest voices.

Vintage Days

Half-filled wine glass
still full-bodied
beckoning red

crimson passion
flaunted in iconic curves
brimming with aged tastes

inviting immersion
in liquid ecstasy
of well-fermented dreams

daily doses welcomed
with exchanged glances
above and below the rim.

Backyard Wildlife

Its quiet stealth
full of surprises
for human spies

cottontail blur
dashing always
toward safe cover
except for once

black-footed fox
absolutely silent
sauntering
through grassy lawn

red-tailed hawk
on high-pine perch
anticipating
birdbath visits

pair of coyotes
pop-up figures
in alfalfa field
feasting on voles

doe with three fawns
daily apparition
performing
white-tailed ballet

great horned owl
massive shadow
skewering a skunk
beneath our window

smaller screech kin
sunning, sleeping
on front porch
of winter hole

nature’s quiet stealth
slipping on and off the stage
with occasional screams.

Never Enough

Evil chameleon
many-headed scourge
tentacular arms and legs
always grasping
impossible to cage
metamorphosing
cyberizing
greasing itself
waiting to resurrect
when surveillance wanes
hiding behind
sweet faces, secret algorithms
obsessional
disemboweling all virtue
self-perpetuating
across space, time, and generations
chained and unchained monster
within us all.

Turning Over A New Leaf

Time once again
to turn over a new leaf
reverse an old one anew
though ragged and torn
from so many turnings-over
perhaps too worn
time to find a fresh leaf
oak, maple, or chestnut
with bigger expectations
than willow, beech, or birch

need I find five new leaves
for five different reasons
hanging them on a line
to turn each day
in triumph
of will over impulse
insistent hunger
battling each minute
in every hour of every day
for momentary victory.

Final Respects

Flower-smothered hearse
headlight-lit caravan
in its funeral wake

playing a memory chord
my father’s cortege
two score years ago

final homecoming
to boyhood memory
its cotton fields unpicked

returning simply
to family’s embrace
seven generations deep

country vehicles
pulling aside
to honor his passing

added benediction
from friend and kin
for shared earthly minutes.

So Much I Used to Know

Names of plants
stars and constellations
capitals of the states

tropical Hawaiian flowers
I cannot retrieve now
in Puerto Rico

Orion’s companions
or Pleiades and Hyades
which is which cluster

Montpelier, Augusta, Boise
Albuquerque too
no, no, no, Santa Fe

so much lost
facts, faces, yesterday’s dinner
in memory’s dimming haze

replaced perhaps
with better knowledge
of how much we cannot know.

Two Best Birds

Reclusive creatures
choosing me
for acquaintance

paddling along
Sanibel’s edges
in quiet trance

mangrove cuckoo
staring back
from sheltered branch

slender, regal shape
its indicator tail
long, white-spotted

then sitting parked
in montane forest
with absent thoughts

glancing upward
Puerto Rican Tody
on tree’s under parts

dazzling green
lemon yellow flanks
stunning bright red bib

these exotic looks
quite a gift
to nondescript me.

Clapping at Sunset

Clapping at sunset
gratitude
for another day

bar bell ringing
cheerful toasts
join the chorus

anxiety-free
this daily ritual
for us moderns

no nightly fear
some thoughtless gods
may intervene

dispatch the sun
to some different place
in the universe.

If Prayer is Not the Answer

If prayer is not the answer
what does one do
to ritualize luck
to weight the dice of life

collect upturned pennies
count bluebird glimpses
petition the four winds
wish upon a galaxy…

if prayer is not the answer
what does one do
to focus a beam of hope
into the dark unknown

visualize success
throw back buckets of salt
chant exotic verses
meditate upon a star…

wrestler with this dilemma
upon the horns of a paradox
concocting incantations
to a capricious universe.

Weather Forecast for 2009

Tightening isobars
blustery economic winds
cage the whole country
no escape to balmy breezes

mostly lows, few sunny skies
precipitation solidifies
encasing fiscal landscapes
chilling aspirations

successive financial storms
disrupting investment patterns
pressure fields tightly wound
ripe for uncoiled chaos

tornadic ups and downs
devastation ensues
pyramid edifices
blown to kingdom come

climate change now in play

resetting dollar forecasts

against bad-asset weather

in depression-proof shelters.

In Praise of a Grand Machine

Random stab
of strange pain
on occasion

errant joint
achy somewhat
unreliable

collection of
colds, coughing
lung congestion

wince index
for lower back
tender ankle

dull headache
interrupter
of daily tasks

still...all heal
with patience pills
and magic aspirin.

Night Angel

So many lineal journeys
bring me to this loving place
night angel on my shoulder

nirvana achieved
there can be no sweeter
amidst such quietude

softest, reassuring breaths
harmonizing with my heart
binding all humanity

every possibility
beyond evil, greed, and hate
sleeping roundly in my arms

night angel on my shoulder
emissary from the kingdom of life
as reincarnated love.

When I Fell in Love with France

Long ago once upon a time
when I was twenty-five
I fell in love with France
besotted first with Paris
daily greeted by Mayor Voltaire
tending his garden patch on Rue de Seine
sly gatekeeper to glittering sights
strolling streets, evocative rooftops, catacomb mazes
amalgamated with dazzling surprises
of brilliant cuisine, glorious art, joie de vivre

lured easily into the countryside
for extended treasure hunt
to Chartres’ asymmetric spires
fragments of some celestial place

surreal, fairytale turrets
strung along the River Loire
palaces filled with royal intrigue
Chambord, Amboise, nearby Chenonceau

west to Brittany’s stunning cliffs
beyond fields of hidden menhirs
past relaxing sands at St. Malo
dotted with scarlet bathing tents

rockbound Mont Saint-Michel
mystical, seaside mirage
angular pinnacle with sacred space
reached through gauntlet of relic dealers

blood-washed, Normandy beaches
achingly memorialized
by endless acres of skeletal crosses
whispering ‘please never again’

another war glorified on Bayeux wall
a needlework, medieval saga
when William conquered Saxon Harold
winning for France Britannia’s lands

finale to our French adventure
on limestone hills above the Seine
chased after dark by chivalrous ghosts
through Chateau Gaillard's stony ruins

thrice more I returned to Gaul
an eager pilgrim into the past
through historic turns and twists
among art-filled caves and Roman ways
from Joan of Arc to Charles DeGaulle
seizing ancestral relations
with this antique homeland
where I know millennia ago
some Norman or Gallic others
must have begotten me.