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| Colors 2 |
This land is varicolored or black on white,
Bone, bird and berry-colored or dark in light.- Cardinal, cherrywood, redbud, strawberry, cranberry glass and dog fox brush.
- Jaybird, heron, bluebird, hawberry, bluegill, blue law, bluebottle fly.
- Goldfinch, warbler, soapberry, daffodil, birch, perch, Sunday go to meeting pique.
- Oriole, marigold, sugarberry, tiger lily, sassafras, hand-painted demitasse, clay.
- Martin, mulberry, hackberry, huckleberry, elderberry wine and boysenberry pie.
- Treefrog, luna, buckeye, gooseberry, leaf blade, moss, scum, shade, bulrush.
- Barn owl, serviceberry, church, clouds, snow.
- Blackberry cordial, mourner, locust, crow.
This land is varicolored or black on white,
Bone, bird and berry-colored or dark in light. |
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| Conservation |
Bears and wolves and cougars are back.
He would have grabbed his gun from the rack.
Until the kill, he'd have stayed on track.
But varmints are safe for he won't return.
Those dangers and guns aren't his concern.
The more we lose, the more we learn. |
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| Creature of Habit |
Creature of habit, child of routine:
Shatter the patterns; wipe the slate clean.Reap in the winter. Sow in the fall.
Grow your own water. Bounce your own ball.Smell the bells. Touch the squeals.
Taste seashells. Hear tree feels.
See beyond. See before.
Plow the pond. Fish the shore.All is uncertain. All is unknown.
Window to curtain. Ashes to bone.Creature of habit, child of routine:
Shatter the patterns; wipe the slate clean. |
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| Evening Watch |
The sunflower sentries are sleeping on the job, heavy heads bent.
Shaggy yellow curls piled on Van Gogh fantasies, energies spent. |
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| For Anna | Hotter out than blue blazes that day
I was mowing the banks of the county highway
Like I've done 50 years and more for pay.
In the winters I plow snow.Down the gravel road past the fancy van,
Wild and hellbent for leather she ran.
I thought maybe she had troubles with her man.
In the country, you don't know.Square in front of me she stood, arms waving.
She quit hollering and I saw she was grinning.
Lord, but she was a feisty thing;
Pretty, too, her face all aglow."Spare the daylilies, kind sir, if you please!"
Used to be hereabouts only a few grew daylilies.
Anyhow, she was partial to these
With their orange and yellowy show.I left the patch and she thanked me and said
Would I like a cool drink but, no, I abided
By the rules, thinking on how I wanted
Her around when it's my turn to go. |
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| Chilling |
| Color coded grandmothers march against war while you wait. They flash on beads and flowers from an earlier, sweeter date. Returning to the pilgrim's armor when this unholy one is waged, you are taller and fatter with your genex eyes and harlequin skins but, outside of marching next in a long unbroken line, seemingly disengaged. |
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| Goats |
Some herd animals are social.
Goats are not that.
Goats are strong individuals
In everybody's habitat.
Goats have business to attend to.
They make this clear.
Goats don't care what you do
If you don't interfere.
Goats are right in your face
If you don't get out of the way.
Are there goats in this place?
Hey, say no! It's okay. |
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| Joined |
You say you're not a joiner. That bird won't fly.
You joined when a twinkle in your daddy's eye,
When your mama sang hush and rockabye,
When you went to school where you didn't try
Or did and learned to read, write and lie,
When you fell in love or passed love by.You say you're not a joiner. That song won't play.
You joined when you sighted the first light of day,
When you crept off home or kept away,
When your children came and came to stay
Or didn't, when you hired to work for pay
Or didn't, when you did or didn't pray.Joined at the hip and face to face,
Held in the grip of time and space,
You cannot skip the human race.
The membership is locked in place. |
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| Meade Record and Repose |
| Daisy, Wife of John (Jack) Meade, the inscription reads, died June 13, 1850 (age 33 years, 9 months, 8 days). Nestled in nearby weeds are six small stones with given names and common phrases: son or daughter of John (Jack) Meade and wife Daisy, followed by single dates -- May 20, 1846; June 5, 1847; May 9, 1848; May 7, 1849; June 12, 1850, excepting Virgie Sue, born in 1845, who lived 5 years, 6 months and 10 days and so much for this portrayal of the Meade family in a cemetery from which stones are stolen for weird decor or washed into the river! It does appear John (Jack), if we care or if we don't, eventually got busy elsewhere. |
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| MO FLOW |
HeatThe cows know what to do.
Down to the pond they go,
Hulks against sky blue,
Single-file, certain, slow,
Topping the last rise,
Only mouths churning
With tails fighting flies,
Steady jumpropes turning.
In water they rest
Under elm trees,
Too savvy to protest
107 degrees. |
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PersistenceFinally fall, heat in retreat,
Flies and mosquitoes disappear.
In your face the tiny life beat
Of distraction biteless yet complete.
It's gnat time of year. |
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| Peace Symbol |
In a different visual zone
Of profuse psychedelic illusion,
The dove moves on supple, reddish feet,
Bobbing to some unknown tone,
Tuned to some old confusion
Of quasi-international beat. |
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| Running |
For a fast take on humankind,
Both wise and otherwise,
Look into a mule's eyes,
Listen when a crow cries,
Record in words what you find. |
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| Squirrels |
Squirrels are smarnt!
Don't think they aren't! |
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| Teamwork |
The names are quick, short, complete. Bob and Vick. Joe and Pete.
Teams of two. Tall and grand. Waiting on the cue from man.
Drivers call: Back, go, ho. Pull and haul. Strut and show.
No alcohol. No profanity. Horse and driver are drug free.
Whips and such are disallowed. Voices are touch. Teams are proud.
No heading unless for emergency. No changing sides. No being unruly.
No open bridles on Dick and Al, Jack and Jess, Cab and Cal,
Dan and Dean, Joe and Pete. The rules are clean; the contest, sweet. |
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| This for That |
| Countering clumsiness brought on by one or more failing senses (say, sight?), can another (say, hearing?), if grown keener, take up the necessary slack? No wonder the aged are likely to sit still and think back. There's plenty of room to crack a deal before you're down to the last rhyme and what more time you can steal. |
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