Right to Write | Another Say

Hooray for the Jay and MO USA

Another Say

Colors 2

This land is varicolored or black on white,
Bone, bird and berry-colored or dark in light.

Cardinal, redbud, cherrywood, 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.

Conservation

The bears and wolves and cougars are back.
Dad would have grabbed his gun from the rack.
Until the kill, he'd have stayed on the track.
But varmints are safe for Dad won't return.
The guns and dangers aren't his concern.
The more we lose, the more we learn.

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.

Evening Watch

The sunflower sentries are sleeping on the job, heavy heads bent.
Shaggy yellow curls piled on Van Gogh fantasies, energies spent.

For Anna

It was hotter than blue blazes that day.
I was mowing banks on the county highway
Like I've done 50 years and better for pay.
In the winters I plow snow.

Down the gravel driveway past the 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, please, oh, please!"
Used to be hereabouts a few grew daylilies.
Anyhow, she was partial to these
With their orange and yellow show.

I left the patch and she thanked me and said
Would I like a cool drink but, no, I abided
By county rules, while thinking I sure wanted
Her around when it came my time to go.

Chilling Billing

Color coded grandmothers and greatgrandmothers march against war while you play action games and wait. They flash on beads and flowers from an earlier, sweeter date. Returning to the pilgrim's armor and sword when this unholy one is waged, you are taller and fatter with your genex eyes and harlequin skins but, outside of marching next in the long unbroken line, surprisingly disengaged.

Goats

Some herd animals are social.
Goats are not that.
Goats are strong individuals
In anyone's habitat.
Goats have goat stuff to attend to.
They make this clear.
They don't care what you do
If you don't interfere
But if you get in their way
They are right in your face.
As far as I can see, it's quite okay
Not to have goats about the place.

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 failed to try
Or tried and learned to read and 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 saw 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.

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 even we don't, eventually got busy sowing seed elsewhere.

MO FLOW

Heat

Cows know what to do.
Down to the pond they go,
Hulking against sky blue,
Single-file, certain, slow,
Topping the last rise,
Steady mouths churning,
Tails fighting flies
Like jumpropes turning.
In water they rest
Under the elm trees,
Too savvy to test
107 degrees.

Persistence

It's finally fall with heat in retreat.
Flies and mosquitoes disappear.
Tiny new lives arrive to compete
For your water, air, sweet or seat.
Biteless distractions hard to defeat.
It's gnat time of year.

Running

For a fast take on humankind,
Both wise and otherwise,
Look into a mule's eyes.
Listen when a crow cries.
Seek words for what you find.

Teamwork

Short and quick, fast and lean. Bob and Vick, Dan and Dean.
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. Driver and horse guaranteed drug free.
Whips and such are disallowed. Voice is touch. Teams are proud.
Heading only in an emergency. No changing sides. No acting unruly.
No open bridles on Dick and Al, Jack and Jess, Cab and Cal,
Joe and Pete, Dan and Dean. The rules are clear; the contest, clean.

This for That

Countering clumsiness brought on by one or more failing senses (say, sight?), can another (say, hearing?), grow keener, take up necessary slack? No wonder the aged are likely to sit still and think back. There's plenty of doom room to crack a deal before you're down to what more time you can steal.