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.