Jonah Blacksmith (folk fest '17 #2)

grandfather’s large fire-iron hands

nimbly grip mandolin

smallest of stringed instruments

forging love and family

boys off to side

eyes embracing ears elating

this maker man

inspired

infused

involved

in love

until now under pure prairie sky

shaping nimble anthems

on anvil

of large life and fiery energy

Brandi Carlile (folk fest '17 #1)

she’s got that

permanent

smile

not just her lips

but whole face

in fact her whole being is a smile

eyes

hair

stance

standing stage

with sun-dance vigour

voicing thrilling veins of ore

from  american depths

and gliding above

like the triangle craft

sweeping in a curve above the

grounds where we sit in

our groups within groups

and dream-dance in this eye of calm

hurricane surrounding and

we

are

the

smile

when I said goodbye to my last class

when I said

goodbye

to my last class

I played Bohemian Rhapsody

and The End by The Beatles

and then I sang

Ring of Fire

strumming like Johnny

I took the knife

sharp     heavy

and cut the strawberry shortcake

into 14 pieces

one for each

while we ate I glimpsed

into the hard growing up teen world

of

          making

ones

way

and then I said my last goodbye

my red shirt receding into the past

Royal Canoe plays with the WSO

paddle dips

rhythmically surely joyfully

into glassy orchestral lake and you

pull forward into

lilting straights

surreal waters

crowns on your heads

beaded with jewels and sweat

sun pulsing sweet electric melody

working its way into the

tough skin and marrow-filled

bones of vision and memory and we

bow slightly

dancing in recognition of this adventurous voyageur monarchy

red sashes fluttering

Roger climbs stairs

it’s a stage I guess

this overwhelming joy in stairs

sometimes alone

and sometimes holding our hands

taking two at a time

in a rush to get to the top

then turn right around

and go back down

lifting arms up

in expectation of adult hand

we can try to lead him

to the sidewalk or park

but the concrete steps

magnet him and he climbs again

sometimes a dog distracts

and he barks in recognition bowwow

but mostly it’s the stairs

his body a stair machine

obsessed with the climb

as brain sparks bedazzle with toddler wonder

Trump Haiku #5

where is our Shakespeare

that can write about today’s

Macbeth slash Richard

Psalm X

it is the time of

in-between

the after and before

after the freeze

before the sun’s passion

after the world white

before the fullsome green

after death

before life returned

after Friday

                before Sunday

we are a people

in-between

blue sky above

layered earth below

and I look up into blinding sun-spackled sky

in gratitude for in-betweenness

for memory and imagination

for the crocus that is the promise of purpleness 

after months of darkness