harvest moon so soon it seems,
though it's been a year;
this night i stayed in bed, didn't open the curtain to look.
Then a brilliant flash at three
and i counted the seconds eight, nine, ten, eleven...rumble.
again a flash - i counted to nine that time.
nine miles away.
i imagine the storm diminished
as i slept gain
until rolling thunder when i woke at six.
left to right, across the sky.
and the rain was louder than the train...two trains around seven.
pouring hard on and off this morning.
This night i slept well,
wrapped in good thoughts and dream.
how about you...how'd it seem?
Seek and enjoy.
when you find, and we found
a breakfast spot, another
not a big corporate job...
a little ma an' pa,
and this one had cheesecake.
ok, not your usual breakfast fare but, how about it...
four different kinds, brought from Cleveland.
cherries, blue berries, straw berry and another..
call it a wonder berry...I can't remember.
oh, yes, to look at them is fattening. What a way to go.
I tried a piece...no, not tried, I ate a piece.
As good as I imagined...as good as you can imagine.
two eggs, two pancakes, i ordered.
the chubby waitress, embarrassed
about her glasses; still cute and kind.
and the world goes on spinning;
sipped coffee by the window.
i see giant nimbus clouds roll by.
geeze, big as old sailing ships.
thought of mocking-birds, used to hear them.
Uncle Clifford's hand pump well,
and fresh, clean, country water splashing.
then outside, a drunk on a bicycle stops traffic.
he's old enough to know better.
and the world goes on spinning.
i'm glad there is nothing for me to hang on to
or i'd write the same poem every day.
Wellington, a forgotten town
a line drive 22 miles east of Norwhere
where 18 crosses 58...
the heart of nothing special but goodness.
an old, tin-pressed ceiling cafe is large, welcoming.
no music, no TV, the hum is locals talking quietly.
cheery Karen from the other day seats us.
glassed in, on the corner over coffee we view
big-rig, cross-town traffic,
the action at the center of the berg.
sipping, we decide how to take two eggs
with two pancakes...too early
for too many decisions; no rush,
all is well...in Wellington
good; so very, very good.
good wine, they're edible,
bright in spring, rich in
vitamins A, C, iron and calcium,
health benefits include
relief from liver disorders, diabetes,
urinary disorders, acne, jaundice,
cancer and anemia; also for
maintaining bone health, skin care
and as a benefit in weight loss;
they're cheery to look at,
and naturally, people want to kill them
so double-damn bad.
M was inside getting plants
i was standing by the car
an old man in jeans, jacket and straw hat came out.
we talked a few minutes about
the good spring weather finally here,
the noisy storm we had last night.
i told him we lived in noralk, in town,
about here to that buggy behind the fire department.
he went on down to his buggy
an old woman wearing a long dress and bonnet
came out and joined him.
they turned the fine horse around
and began to leave.
as they passed by,
he and i wished each other a good day,
and they rode away.
m went into the store,
i waited in the car, reading, window open.
many people walking in the lot,
heard this constant, serious, deep-voiced, hushed monotone.
an older guy a short distance away,
standing between two dark cars,
ball cap on, talking, shoulder up,
neck angled, holding something to his ear,
speaking into this brown,fuzzy thing,
like a cover so i couldn't see the phone,
his eyes darted ahead and around.
an undercover job going down?
heard his voice, couldn't make out the words,.
waited for the swat team to drop from the sky.
after ten minutes nothing happened.
then i saw ball cap guy is holding
a small, fuzzy dog to his ear,
and never shut up.
they have barricades on bridges
high enough so driving over
you won't look at the water
and drive into the river
so why not up and down the streets of towns
don't they erect walls on each side
so bright colors on fancy-dressed manikins with new shoes
won't cause you to make a right turn
and drive over parked cars, through the store windows?