a walk to the pier

stroll north and we've reached the lake
with a chill breeze blowing in
it's a good day to have a jacket and your collar up
humidity i was born with
it is either a familiar comfort hanging in the air
or i'm just used to it

we have a long stone pier
the fishermen use it
they say it's a mile long
i don't know, it could be
in rome i told robert how long it is
and he looked very suprised
the pier is something we take for granted

part way out used to be a range light on a tower
it was torn down when they fixed the pier
added a lot of cement to it
i was just limestone blocks before
when we used to swim out there
only the seagulls are still around

it's the local custom to walk the pier
at least halfway, as far as the blockhouse
so, come on, i'll take you out there
see how the fishermen and women are doing
they're out there sitting and waiting
that looks to be the most of what they do
and hopefully catching a keeper once in a while

a guy moves around to look in his tackle box
and then check his poles
patiently sitting in the open is what they do
that's the sport, i suppose

these two have lanterns and blankets
looks like they've been here all night
hooking perch, walleye or catfish

the suns out now
the wind is lighter
and it getting warmer
we've had our walk

on the river

the river runs through town
and though it has changed
being near brings the
comfort of the familiar

no more the line of wooden fish houses
Heymann's, Kishman's and Zimmerman's
where full and weathered boats docked
to empty the catch from their nets
pack the fish in ice in wooden crates
then truck it off to market
or you could buy some right on the spot

no one knew they were leaving a memory
like a stain
that a local kid would carry away
into the future

to write it down revives their voices and laughter
fishy smells and tar-stained foul weather gear
the heavy crates and ice on dirty boards
that i can see and hear with my eyes closed

restaurants are made now that are imitations
to scenically characterize what we lived
right here
in our town on the river

violets

on damp mornings
in early spring
flashing color on the ground
shining through
all wet with dew
the violets

such tiny things
amid the myriad fields of green
there are many underfoot
i hardly pay attention

tireless to trampling
some may say
but i don't think so
cause nobody likes
getting stepped on

a cabin

i'm building a cabin
somewhere high
a mountain retreat
that touches the sky

and the mountain has a sound
something low that i can feel
a stillness massive, full
of the earth

counting logs, the hours pass
snowflakes melt on window glass
fire logs insides roar out red
imagination is my bed

foggy windows

we have some foggy glass
so i called my old schoolmate tom
to see if he was still selling windows

years before he measured
and sold us some good new ones

he's still working part-time
so i made arrangements for him to drop by
we need three replacements

"you're still a business magnet, tom" they'll say
and he'll feel good
and we'll get new windows

friends are friends
and business with friends
is always my first choice

fish sense

a great blue heron as tall as i
was around the pond today
okay, he was a little shorter than me
twice i chased it away
i haven't been able to count the fish
they' still hiding
alerted to the danger

how did they know
he would eat them?

i guess if you're a fish
it's obvious

the trains

the train rolls through at night
as it has all my life
and the whistle goes long and hard
dah-dah-dit-dah

i was an amateur radio fellow and learned
the morse code starting with that familiar letter q
there's a plaque in roma where sam morse lived eleven years
across the alley from our favorite luncheon spot, pasquali's
for me, the sign was a touch with home and the trains

if light winds blow up from the south and the bedroom window
is open the sound of the train whistle can wake me, shake me
most of the town, i am sure, curse when they fall out of bed with
the horn blast - morse code for the letter q

i asked my friend the engineer and he knew nothing about
the morse code, said the signal was not the letter q
just two longs, a short and a long

i thought the train signal began back when the
telegrapher was the wiry old man in the funny hat
who sat out there in the lonely shack and bridged east to
the west with information

i checked the internet and found the train whistle signals
have no connectin witht the morse code
except in the one coincidence, the instance of passing a crossing

a life long belief has shattered
and the late night trains roll on
long - long - short - long

spring off

as Ohioans we are accustomed to temperature extremes
i remember my mom telling me that in 1937 it snowed on
the fourth of july
weather change is the wild goat that lurks before it charges
now this year spring is May
we can go ahead and pencil it in

after winter's farewell snow
on gusty winds entered the warmer air with a
deep blue sky as backdrop for mammoth clouds tumbling fair
unleashing lawns, trees, bushes and flowers, nesting birds and buds
fresh and underway
nature reborn
this new season has begun

you can water golf courses and keep them pristine
but it's nothing, nothing like the clean
gleam of full young spring

the ultimate in automation

here they are
there are no others
nothing like them
god bless them
suspenders

you want to wear your pants loose
and keep them from dragging on the ground
you got it
the one and only
nothing tight around your waist
hold 'em up to the heavens
suspenders

the very name emits dream

plase note: while the british call them braces
they also drive on the wrong side of the road
they also think suspenders
hold up womens garter belts
so be it
i like women either way
with or without

invented in 1822, thanks you Albert Thurstoon
a.k.a. galluses (not Thurston - suspenders)
galluses is a variation for gallows
let's stop there

fixin' out of the box

oh, how you doin'?
i didn't see you slip in
i was just checkin' under the hood of this baby
it's doin' pretty well, but it's got some kinks
just keepin' and eyee eye on it tit suppose it could use a bit of attention like we all . . .
now did you see that?
that's what i mean
that spellin' thing keeps gegttin' fouled

say, when i get this all fixed up i'm goin' to measure it up
i bet you thought i was going to say i'd invite you over
but why in hell's name would i do that?
you got cher space n' y gitts mine
now the dialecter is going haywire on this thing

do you see? do you see what i'm dealin' wif here?
tricky bidness tricky
plan ahead, what i always say
well, i think about it, i'm not on the plannin' committee or nothing

baby steps, i say that too
remember that movie with that bill murray guy? hah, he cracks me up
hey, that's enough jibber jabberin'
let me get back to what i was doin' here
good seeing you

beginning

every part of the globe
has a theme and pattern

in ohio
seasons are incredible
winters frozen dead
then spring begins and grows quickly from nothings
enough said

it is beyond our abilities to invent such magnificence
a sole creator came up with the idea?
it is a large complicated thought
i see why greeks, romans and others
thought it was a team
it is so much like a dream

blackbirds

a couple were out there last night
about seven
still light
they were looking around in the yard
like they lost something
they don't have pockets in their little black suits
so whatever they found they were stuffing in their mouths
to eat then or later
i don't think they'd just be looking around for the fun of it

they went around the rocks, the wall
and the stones around the rose bush
quite serious
diligent, i suppose
up to something
one was tossing rejected bits away
fast like he was going through a trash pile

i'll have to keep an eye on them for a few days
to see what they're up to


our friend blackie was the winner
he was worth a little story
i never had to keep an eye on him
he looked for us

robins in bird world

robins are the hardest workers
they run as much as they fly
moving quickly in early spring

always searching on fast feet
for fast food
or twigs to build their nest

later it's take home food
to feed the children

then they'll train the kids to hunt
and pick
and run around
the way the big ones do

spiders

everythng in ohio has a season
for spiders it's the month of may
then when you see your neighbors
you don't say hello
just, how many did you kill today?

satie

a mystery who wrote simple lines
master of slow time
fellini with hidden wires

i hear his melodies again
and never know i heard

calming, soothing
sweet as a quiet body of water under moonlight
weeping in blessed solitude

a carnival without clowns
weaving a stitch at a time
slipping subtly by as the dolphin
in a quiet, dark ocean inlet


to hear his work
click this taste of eric satie

the pond

some years ago behind our house i made a pond
for me and the mostly goldfish
they live there
i'm just the caretaker

spring means cleaning
passing a net through the water
in slow sweeping motion
to capture debris
last year's leaves
small bits that have collected
from a long winter's winds

so for hours i move the net along
slowly sifting the waters
like a gentle moving song
making myself familiar again to the fish
and the frog

oh, yes
every year there's at least one frog
that hangs around for a few months
until it is time for him or her to move on
where frogs come from, where they go
i suppose i'll never know

maybe it's an old person thing
or at least a calm person's task
to patiently go over the pond
again and again until the job's well done

to start over in another place
with a new pond
would be work intense
i've got this pond
and perhaps now, a bit more sense

there is enough work here
for me to do
but i started the job
so i'll see it through

indian shoes

one year
grandma lulu sent me indian shoes
moccasins just like the real ones that indians wore
i don't know where she found them
maybe at the store
cause she lived in arizona

and then she sent me a second pair another year
i must have said i lost them
but found them later under the bed
cause how can you lose slippers?

now i have two pair
and wear them everywhere
in the house, of course
they wear well and shuffle quietly
do you think she would send me a horse?

homecoming

what am i doing here?
i was born here, isn't that enough?
my wife has her garden
and i have my stuff

saw my friend and
heard the story of the past year
her son has a job
the neighbor had a couple more back surgeries
and her mother has dementia
at least the grass is green
and her pond has two frogs

i've been back a week
M. worked pulling dandelions
i have nothing to write
and my computer has fatal errors

my friend in roma hears nuns sing in the morning
i went to Bob Evans had oatmeal
heard the same thirty year old rock music
that every Bob Evans in the country has
tap your feet while you eat
ain't it neat?

house on the hill

the little old house has nearly fallen
it has been going down for years
even when i was young it turned shabby
but held strong character beyond its peers

at one time it must have stood quite charming
a handsome work of craft in wood art
designed and erected quite carefully
but, sadly neglected and now falling apart

years ago it was abandoned
the shutters fell first
then windows broke and chimney tumbled
as it went from repairable to worse

now i still recall it in those better times
and that's how i'll remember it well
the dear little house on the hill in the country
that slowly died and went to hell

la gallina liberata - the liberated hen

in a corner on the ouside wall
in the centro storico of the ancient town narni
is ambra's new restaurant
la gallina liberata - the liberated hen

she named it for a chicken in her yard
that was stuck somewhere
struggled and got free
she had to call her restaurant something

ambra is a good cook, organizer and host
has friends to support her offorts
the amibiton and perseverance
to realize her projects