Nature (continued)

Mom and Dad's Fault

Sister Irma's boney finger pierces my chest.
Returning to my second grade classroom following recess,
I flash someone "the bird."
Second grader, I'd seen older boys use the sign.
I ask Joe, a schoolmate, what it meant.

At 51, I dribble up-court.
Sister Irma's finger stabs me again.
"I probably ate too quickly.  It's heartburn."
Game over, I head home.
Pop a half-dozen Rolaids.  Relax in bed.
"It'll be gone in the morning."

No such luck.
Days later, cardiologist hover over me.
Announce I need a quadruple bypass.
"But, I don't smoke, eat badly and I work out regularly."

"Genetics."

Nature (continued)

Apple trees blossom in yard,
September sun will yield fruit.
I shall harvest its riches.
Years pass, deeper grow my roots.

On Station - 1967-68

I lay on my couch
beneath a picture window.
Spend hours scanning Perseid showers
dissecting an August night.

In the South Pacific years earlier,
I witnessed Soviet missiles
knife earth's atmosphere.
Perilous bursts in air.
A thousand cuts in the evening sky.

Nature (continued)

Flocks of geese flew overhead.
Their formation swiftly sped.
Honking loud supportive calls,
Leaders changed.  Flapping wings raised all.

Nature (continued)

Internetted

we surf rectangles
of flawless smiles, hair and skin.
search click-on pics,
seek perfection and proclivities,
eliminate toads and fairy princesses...
discover each other

initial impressions important:
what do we share?  fun, favorite things,
politics...religion.
advanced signs:  libra, acquarius
eastern influences:  horse, ram, monkey

was love in our stars?

honesty and truth from inception.
modesty best!
exchange grettings and meet,
findng a partner and soul mate
seems simple
exciting!

sadder, maybe wiser,
I view your new profile
as you did mine.
we search again

Nature (continued)

Fireweed Season, WestCrest

Fireweed now rusted,
We ramble past the colored foliage.
Ami and Pepper rush ahead,
kicking dust, sniffing all.

On top branch of a Sumac,
a solitary Ana stands guard.
No sense of passing season.
Others have fled to light,
warmth and greater forage.

My dogs and I remain.

Neighborhood (Continued)

Quiet Day

Warm weather drew me
to my morning's half-mowed lawn.
I brought a novel to read
as I considered yesterday's unfinished chore.
I'd tired after a few minutes
pushing and pulling the cutter

over mole-mounds rutting the uneven earth
and up the bank.

I sat on the wooden sun-warm steps
by the Ceanothus and watched bees
flit the flower blooms.  Nils restocked
his hive and its workers buzz
in and out of this small office tower.
A neighbor squirrel scurries the Japanese maple
scolded by two Stellar Jays.
Ladybugs surf the herb boxes
on leaves of garlic, cilantro and thyme.
Slug trails evaporate near the rocks
beyond the bitten hostas.

Catalina hung wind-chimes above the porch,
silent in this quiet day.
I open my book to another chapter.