Friday, September 11, 2020

our pal Blackie

 
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beloved Blackie returned every summer for five years
we liked him, i think the feeling was mutual
his wings are flapping fast
not because he was crazy - he was a wild bird
and soon as he got his peanut he was leaving
 my October 29, 2007 post has his story

january emptied


making notes I am
sorting words, stacking cards
one dog barking

I look up at the dark blurs
some birds boring blindly
into running low grey clouds

above on the hill, the Gianicolo,
a cannon fires a puff of smoke into the chill
below, the city hears the signal, it Is noon

we board a bus of content silence
off for a bite of lunch, our own words blend,
weave and overlap with the others

then a little walking
through the crowds
a lot of talking

don’t hear what they’re saying
making plans I suppose,
some are gesturing, pointing,

laughing young women
heads together
recount social victories

no small children pulling against their mothers
today many little wrapped ones in blankets
lulled to silence on four-wheeled strollers

temperature is dropping
who is content?
there is some calm poised beyond complacency

after evening buses slow, then cease
overnight it is soundless
when imagination is the only border

deerful

 gathered close, light woods around

deerskin tan and markings white abound 

in quiet movement, together, shuffling

without sound. only the ambience of evening.

moonless sky. strong bodies, family,

in silence, light breathes, watching amid darkness.

numbers, they speak of time, we know hours

as they pass in dampness. they call numbers in hours.

we see paths, streams, short rivers we know.

living dreams. our numbers live with us.

wood sticks lightly kicked against leaves.

our group of deer move in near silence.

breathe in light puffs. aware around us.


Thursday, September 10, 2020

poets 1

 

a crowd of poets is a sad thing

sure they're always holding hands

but they're crying.

Wednesday, September 09, 2020

working the best we can

every day we find chores
that need completing.
 you know how that goes.
not overly fatiguing.
we do the jobs we want to do first.
fortunately, we can secure trained agents to handle
the worst. if you pay they'll show up.

two school-age boys came by

to clean our already clean rain gutters.
we sent them away.
last winter we over-paid the same lads to shovel snow,
they did a lousy job and kept returning at every dusting of a few snowflakes.

here at our new home we're caught with the unfamiliar;
going to stores to buy the food 
people we've never seen put cans on shelves.
 
our new garden turned out unremarkable.

unannounced, another completion:  a baby rabbit was born,
hopped around our yard as a clumsy complete newcomer would.
 then it stormed heavy rain 24 hours.
 the baby washed well.

the newly born came out after the rain.
i saw three other rabbits as well.

today our  bunny came out,
ate grass and kept to itself
as rabbits tend to do.
we watched from inside.
don't know if it's a him or her
it's just our bunny.
we  know little.

Tuesday, September 08, 2020

booming

last night's forecast called for thunder,
they hit it on the bean,
 right on time, the crack of dawn . 
the clock said six.

  morning's light trapped in thunder clouds.
a strong boom shook the house .
pouring rain alternated with cold stillness.

i woke clearly and thought to write
good words, altogether so they blend.
a theme dedicated to this morning.

 found nowhere to scratch it.
forgot to sleep with a pen and paper.

had an idea, couldn't write it down.
 so i slipped into sleep again,
forgot my thoughts,
lost them in the rain.
a pleasant way to go.