poetry - jack sender - all of my life
Wait for instruction before beggining.
Pack similar berries together..
Sort by color and shape.
Currently longing for space to box.
Stirring words to capture flowing thought-ponies.
Whirling for a rhyme .
Bailing out in time.
Settling down by nine.
Get your tickets ready.
Take a seat on the bus
Seems to start and stop real steady.
We’re packing in the rest of us.
The weatherman on tv,
so many and weatherwomen included
said the dew point is 72.
I had to write that down.
one in particular i saw seemed worried about it.
I’m 78 and know nothing about dew points.
Hat the forecast.
Do it quietly as Little and NewLittle are calmly faced off between beds 2 and 3.
Scattered patches of blue behind puffy clouds this morning.
Joyous. Hat the forecast.
No traffic at all.
i’ll have a second cup of coffee.
Soft beginnings in morning light.
The day gently calls.
Slowly turning puffy clouds
Fill the skyway halls.
Two large rabbits ran across the front lawn.
Quick as they appeared they were gone.
Now the lawn is an empty canvas again.
We’ll see which speeding bunny can win.
On my old piano I’ll work out a tune,
To honor still nights and the moon.
By the starlight and partial breeze
There’ll be a melody to please.
Blue is in the sky, not completely.
Enough for the first time in a while.
Nothing to be seen flying, walking.
Or Driving by this morning.
Colors are bright.
Good light starting this day.
Remembering I recall the people;
vehicles vanished with no trace.
Now in a new millennium
The ever changing has come to this.
Words lean ahead and are mysterious
Even as they’re spoken.
Fields are filled with rolls of grain.
Driving by you have to notice.
Field’s don’t usually look this way.
I should take a picture to show you.
Like toilet paper rolls five feet wide, six feet tall.
If you’ve seen these tools before it’s nothing new.
Bigger or more rolls than ever.
It has been a while since rolls were there.
So now you really notice them.
Food for everyone no doubt about it.
The population is so very large.
Instead of more rows of houses.
Food in fields makes sense. A welcome sight.
The mower pulls itself and the mowee.
Up and down the line, cuts so fine.
The air quality has been cut to ribbons.
Terrible sky what have you done.
It sprinkled last night.
Streets got wetter.
Holy mackerel
Will things get better?
Plow, plow turn it over
Give the bunnies fresh, new clover.
Make it better; clean the air
All over, yes, all over.
Noticing the house across the street
I could tell you about it.
There are only bushes and trees visible.
So thick with foliage no house can be seen.
In the fall Richard’s house is prominent.
I worry when there is no bush between us.
What change when the woods is thick.
Give us the green between.
Now with that said it’s a return to morning.
A return to calm.
Sunday morning all around.
Deer or bunnies with hardly a sound.
