the sugar maple

the sugar maple
in lemon lime,
will change to gold,
pointing up leaf toes

to float away, away.
scattering and running,
skidding brittle rattles
on brisk wind in sun.

the season’s begun
an extravagant show all,
yielding full colors.
the wonder of fall.

plunder seekers

it was Squirrely Girl
eating nuts fast as she can.
packing on a little weight,
getting ready for winter.

reminds me of the way
my wife goes through
the sales table at the clothing store.
head down, no looking 'round, all business.

we give her peanuts now,
the squirrel i’m talking about,
she has a long winter ahead.
then, so do we all.

at least M. & i don’t live outside
with no soft blankies,
riding out blowing snow storms
somewhere high up in a tree.

crosses on the side of the road

crosses on
the side of the road
mark the spot
where someone died.

as old as earth is,
if there was a cross
everywhere a death occurred
the world would be
packed with sticks.

you could hardly
walk or drive anywhere.
it’d be tough to get from
here to the bathroom.

so how are you
supposed to
have a nice day
?

you are the winner

the biggest award i can imagine
is about sixteen feet long
shaped like and made entirely of ground hot dogs
you could put wheels on it

and roll it into a bonfire
and eat it with mustard
or wrap it up, stand on top, wave to all
and call it “have a nice day”

using Palin

they’re using Palin
to jump-start the GOP.
she’ll do whatever, for
cash, check or money order.

with new faces upcoming, the GOP
doesn’t want to be left on the outside,
the good old boys want business as usual,
cash check or money order.

money is the game & money breeds power.
jeeze i write this stuff and
it gives me the willies - i’d prefer
cash, check or money order.

old stuff

some of my old stuff is special,
that’s why i keep it, plus -
i may need it someday.
that’s a possibility.

for sure, once i liked the objects,
enough to pile them around, pack ‘em in,
mixed with decoy common items.
that way my good stuff doesn’t stick out
and look obviously valuable.

it waits huddled in drawers.
including bells, knobs, hinges,
screws, levers, nuts and springs,
buttons, rope and wires,
wall hooks, unidentifiable gizmos and rulers,

in boxes, wooden, or cardboard.
on shelves, or piled in dark corners.
there’s chipped obsidian arrow heads,
beach shells, stones, bits of bones.
admittedly, some objects better than others,
all have been around the block.

souvenir pottery from Mexico,
old brushes that will be okay
if and when i clean ‘em some day.
worn shoes i may never wear again.
maps to locations i once thought to visit,
books, pamphlets from places no longer in business,
an old cowboy hat once treasured,
though i doubt i’ll ever have a horse
or be that young again.

yesterday i came upon two wooden coins,
one good for a beer at a bar burned down years ago.
on the other wooden coin is printed "one vote",
i know nothing more about it.
they are coins of equal non value.

the line between the good
and junky miscellaneous is fine,
a delicate distinction of subtle reason.

some objects that i hold
i’ll decide the fate of
some other season.

most things squirreled away,
though unimportant now,
evidently, upon a time,
once, had significance.