review

each day i note in quick review
stories true or fabricated
nothing untoward in what i do
brief impressions are here related

passing trains inside our head
haul events that we recall
piled higher than our daily bread
no way can we digest it all

lived in a ghost town

lived two years in a ghost town,
was a small graveyard
and a few cabins
there on the mountain

four or five folks lived within a few miles
a few more came on weekends
the judge married us there
amid a gathering of family and friends

we lived an hour from the nearest town,
our post office box,
traffic, a store or two
and people in general

electricity, none to speak of,
running water was a stream
and our well we pumped by hand
on a log tripod with wooden spool and rope

we had a battery powered radio
the scary programs on CBS mystery theater
was our nine p.m. entertainment
with a fire in the pot belly stove

and wind in the trees,
on moonless nights
after a scary show i’d accompany her
to the outhouse

once a park bear
that got too used to handouts
was dumped off in our part
and showed up on our porch

he got his nose
in some white lime powder
then stood on our porch on his hind legs
and left his powdery white nose print on our screen door

lucky for me he went away when i yelled at him
and he didn’t step through the screen into the kitchen
or it would have been suddenly
very crowded in there

stories and good times
we had a lot of them
our time in the woods
makes me smile thinking

The Internet Alerts Us

my morning coffee ritual
in our dark somber apartment in Rome
was speed jolt interrupted as
M. read aloud the full story

direct from the Internet
of the alarm caused by a guy
who smoked in the first class restroom
aboard a plane flying to Denver

when asked by security what he was doing
because they had smelled smoke in the bathroom,
he jokingly said he was lighting his shoes on fire.
they slammed him in his seat and cuffed him

causing two scrambled fierce military jets to accompany
the airliner while landing or, if need be, shoot it down.
bringing to mind actor and later President Ronald Reagan
who once said, “Lucky Strike means fine tobacco.”

as i quietly sipped my coffee in the far away zone
and thanked my lucky stars the Internet keeps us
informed and alert to the goings on
in restrooms high over Denver and other places

then went back
to finish watching
a six year old prodigy
play the piano in China

been on the road

been on the road and made it
back to Rome from away
quite a week it was.
label us vacationed to the hilt.

she drove the lion share, has the stuff
to persist, fight traffic and hold the gate.
now back, unpacked, thank goodness,
tomorrow we recuperate

can't see it

i can’t see it as a whole
not as well as you.
yes, i write this everyday,
from the middle where it’s spinning fast

i don’t see it as others do,
for it pops in pieces in front of you
in carefree digestible bits.
you have an idea how it goes

better to look from afar,
analyze the pieces.
and then tell me what happened
when it’s over

another life

in another life,
i’m pretty sure
i wasn’t king or queen
or dog or cat

i think i was a dandelion,
and we’d just grow
with nothing to know,
tens of thousands of us

turning our heads
to honor the light of the sun
we sang together
a lot of songs

never had words to learn
we’d just turn
to the sun and knew the music,
we were like one

water spray

the water spray
sky is gray
this early April day

and we rise for the occasion
content being here,
having been bestowed this reward