cover

woke to the silent white,
a coverlet of snow.
it's heavy, you can feel it.
and not a sound outside.

in the country

lady walked by
where i'm sitting, waiting,
nothing in particular.
she smiles at me.
i take a second to react,
then remember where we are;
although she's not Mennonite
or anything particular, just a middle aged lady,
we are out in the country
where people are kinder.
so i relax and smile back.

Eddie katzman

my friend Eddie
has gone among the stars
no time to fold his tent,
a step and he is gone;
he always traveled light.

- - - - - - -
sifu, gorilla lover.
Oh, Eddie, sunlight reminds me of you.
Bac wa, tai chi, chi gung
so long Eddie Katzman,
your teachings are with me;
friend i am to you

my phone rings

business is going to hell
if companies think
calling me will lead
them to making money

in line

there are favorites
often repeated.
naturally i thought i'd seen every combination;
woke, glanced over;
what i saw on the clock surprised me.
a new one, 1 2 3 4

on the morn

wind on wreaths
shakes 'em so
they blow in the breeze;
this morning they do,
i see that.

when then on a sudden,
it's quiet for certain;
like that you know.
so loosely hang this time,
all working out fine,
no wind, no blow.

my pictures

save my pictures,
keep them flat and dry,
with not a wrinkle.
store them away like sweet dreams;
we spent time together.

do review what I have painted,
now and then,
remember way-back when.

i tell you this:
on cold winter mornings they would build
a keep-warm fire.
you could catch the heat of flames,
a big one. It felt good,
it distracted from the cold.

table in the sun

Giancarlino came by and greeted me
as i sat having coffee with Alberto.
ah, the magic of art and artists
develops at a table in the sun.

È venuto Giancarlino e mi ha salutato
mentre sedevo a prendere un caffè con Alberto.
ah, la magia dell'arte e degli artisti
si sviluppa a un tavolo al sole.

remembers

by the forno
a worker walked by, said ciao, Jack.
the face i knew, forgot his name.

hello, good bye, my friends,
the month went quickly,
old friends, familiar places.

so good to see them all...
i knew when we were young.

monday morning

the week begins with
7 under the wet tent;
each know the chores,
working separately, together;
cutting, cleaning, preparing vegetables
so the market can live again.
food shoppers brave spattering, cool, winter rains,
amid happy chatter.
all jobs will be done.

time

saw a former neighbor lady
from a while ago.
we smiled.
i didn't know what to say;
asked of her child.
feminine, she replied,
sixteen years old.

view

icebergs are melting,
there’s floating trash in the oceans.
the universe is expanding.
scientists have conflicting notions.

is it hotter
or colder,
or the same.
what’s the trend?

i don’t care, it really doesn’t matter to me.
i need to know only two things:
when i go outside do I need a jacket?
and what’s for dinner?

in waves

pages turn
then closing my eyes
goes like rain
after another, another

not rapid though smooth, 
continuous. it's a dream, 
on a train. scenes passing. 
heads down cows on green far hills.

constant movement in waves
then coffee in an unfamiliar bar
somewhat dim, comfortable, pleasant.
worn, rolling wood, beautifully polished.

sun's warmth on my back, and i remember the train.
calmly i gaze out the window; 
so apparent, how pleasant
a nap can be

sitting in the right seat

give me that shot of sun in the eye like you did this morning,
i'd sure like to keep it with me all day,
the warm spot,
all over my face.
you make me happy, sun.

cold outside

do your best, it's important;
but don't knock yourself out.
wear a hat when you go out,
and take your time, don't slip;
the rain is turning to snow.
baby, it's cold outside.

quiet ahead

look now...
see morning's dull beige, long rolling, calm, open fields.
a creek meanders the lower section.
crops have been harvested.
all is buttoned up. farms are still.

what few birds haven't gone south
are down at this hour; geese and scavengers.
dark gray skies have a glow in the east.
chip monks are in hiding,
resting geese a field away.

a good hour to appreciate the view.
winter's here in a month or two,
freeze everything, turn it white,
settle all down until spring.
these are the farmer's easy, between times.
good for planning, thinking.
quiet abounds.

autumn joy

finally the final days
of October got to the leaves,
squeezed out the color.
see it now abound;
the booming joy called autumn is here.
wind blows, relax,
it is the season.

this morning

the wonder sun is cracking
above far trees and buildings
and taps my eye;
that's the start of the day.

changes

along our way
the calendar unwinds,
weeks into seasons;
how well do you keep track?
it happens to me when
occasionally i think of it.
as garden vegetables change,
picked ripe, some eaten
some preserved out of sight;
books are read, time moves.
when winter develops
delights she had saved
now ready for eating;
design becomes surprises,
how tasty; thanks, planter and planner.

starting

starting early
before dawn;
creeping right along.
pants on, moving.
found my shoes
hum a song.
hear her making coffee.
i'm ready.
come on day.