birds and squirrels

today I’m watching small birds 

flitting on the branches of our pine 

white markings on their heads 

snow covers ground below 

white sparkle in the sun 

today I’m watching the squirrels 

chase each other across the snow and up the tree 

perfectly balanced along branches 

today I’m watching life in winter

20 days

20 days in the desert 

20 days in the rain

20 days in the wilderness

20 days in mental pain

40 pokes with a needle

40 tests of my blood

40 blood pressure changes

40 days of the flood

every time I get taken

for a test or a scan

for a new procedure

for a way out   a plan

I remember the oasis

of my life at home

full of people who love me

my rosetta stone

Trump series II #1

old senile lawless
nasty immature selfish
unpresidential

 

late frost

grass trembles in the wind 

sun shines but does not warm 

it seems autumn wants to take hold 

but the green protests leaves 

hanging on to trees 

grass staying stubbornly 

green flowers still colouring bright 

and here we are caught by the carbons we emit 

with nothing better to do 

than watch the grass grow

 

forty years

a round full apple 

a firm green grape 

a weighty novel 

a yellowing leaf 

a pretty path through woods 

a tenderloin steak 

a giant wave to float 

a mountain rising 

a sweet yellow cob 

a ripe juicy peach 

a green blade of grass 

a vow that makes a home

September

look out after rain

water drops hang from chair frame 

like pearls of sadness

Lucinda Williams (Folk Fest '24 poem #3)

she leans on the mic stand 

this woman who has endured so much 

and has little of her volcanic presence left 

still has that sandstorm voice 

and a loyal band that follows her anywhere 

as she sings you took my joy 

spitting nails in the air 

anger so hot like lava flowing from the stage 

this woman