by drove

drove by a nuclear power plant
in Ohio, didn't plan on it or like it.
i'm afraid, but the road took us there.
alongside the giant

with dark smoke belching out
as we drove by so close a baseball player
could have hit it with a
fly ball if ... if a lot of things

... I don't know why a base
ball player would want to
hit a ball against the side of
a nuclear power plant. another thing

we were doing sixty on a curve
with the windows closed.
there's no room in the
back seat to swing a bat




.

eagle

eagle

an eagle
sees eight times better
than a human, how'd scientists ask him?
they didn't ask. they took a dead eagles eye
ball and held it up and said he could see
about like that.
we saw a big one, could have
photoed him .. my camera was not ready.
it takes time to set it up and it's
handy in my phone. good quality
and since i did no photo, i'll tell you
and you will feel the eagle in your heart
as i did,
as you think it should be because it's
such a large bird, and strong, and the stories
about them, and it's the usa official country bird,
like that; and there it was and it flew
over the car practically. it should be in
your heart now too, practically.





.

new fire station

the local fire department is
a couple years and a few million
into plans for a new station ...
it'll be a hundred yards from our house.
the old small station was built in 1912
they can't get new trucks until
they have a station with doors large enough
to get the trucks inside.

chief john is hands on everything
selling details to the city
and will work it to completion.
Brett made some fresh coffee;
john showed me the building plans,
i sipped and asked questions.
firefighters do a most valuable job.

there she is now.
worn rag dress and funky shoes,
bobbling to her car, up and down;
look at her go. like the same
i seen when i was a kid,

only i'm worn now too.
near older'n she is
and i can hardly walk ...
but still go along
better than - Lord help her -
better'n that sack o'bones.

holy smoke, she stays on her feet
like a cork in a puddle
after a sudden hard rain.
i'd wave if she looked my way.
don't want to whistle, might mess her up.



.

poetry is pages
in the book of life



.

ants

ants in a crack where stones met
on the walk near the door...back
there...i'm pointing
a pile of sand, an enlarging crack

i set my foot ready
to sweep the sand pile
into the growing hole
"what are you doing?"\

her tone stopped me cold
"I was...uh..."
enough said by me, evidently

"they're working there."
i looked again and it seemed so.
ants have things as we do...to do.
let them.



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