go away winter

warm we can get used to;
it is about time.
surrender winter,
glad to see you go.

big sun

temperatures higher now,
fifty degrees at noon and climbing.
i go to the porch where
it feels familiar though not quite spring,
working in that direction.
Tecumseh, you passed by; were born here
two hundred years ago.
what is new for you, are you
more familiar with this land?
water flowing these streams.
winter's not as tough for you now.
all is quiet in the fields.
the deer are still here.
not as many, yet plenty.
we see them, and now birds
have begun to stir after a tough winter's quiet.
much land is taken over by roads, towns.
trees are fewer yet
forests remain;
thank goodness.

a break

a break in the cold. the freezing,
a little, some better, some say...
we'll see and hope so,
all the way.
161 snow records broken in January,
forty percent of the US covered in snow,
it's winter enough.
look ahead for goodness.
we'll take spring, i know.
all of us are ready.

wait the weather

Chicago is expecting minus 60 Fahrenheit.
every is expecting agonizing low temperatures,
now while sitting at the table
talking about tomorrow's weather.
we will think of it, but not
spend a large amount of time
futurizing weather conditions.
numbers are predicted, then are changed,
we get distracted during the day
and wait to see what happens.

rise, sun

looking out i saw it
such color.
the sun rise exploded pink.
in blistering cold, no wind.
never felt a day like it.
in two more it will drop well below freezing.
this is 29 january 2019 happening now.
see you, pal;
we'll see how it goes.

irregular

didn't cross the field.
came straight down the sidewalk.
i saw the tracks,
not large as i'd expect;
has little bunny feet.

i looked as he crossed the street
then sat up large as a pooka.
his jacket would be a rabbit extra large.
must live under those pine trees;
glad i never walk there.

wild morning light

twisted, rolling clouds lite up,
blown about.
the sun is pow-wild bright.
you forget this is a winter morning
when you're watching wild morning light.

over melt

rain all day on top of
hard pack snow heaps.
they say, again they do the talking,
twelve hours straight of falling water, oh yeah.

how much melt?
it's a matter of warm
don't you suppose, and there is.
warming, then cold again.

lets have
soup for lunch. don't worry
your pretty well
over melt.

heading up

pro foootball players make big money.
you watch them on TV,
that's why they get the gravy.
they get a million dollars
every time they turn around.
buy a ticket and keep 'em going.
i am sorry they bang heads.

january, there is snow

woke to drifts over two feet.
still falling, blowing this morning,
snow like i've never seen.
safe at home.
couldn't get to the street anyway,
no traffic is moving.
twenty-something degrees outside...
wait, i checked, make that 13 and dropping.

i'm staying home; big football on TV;
at the end of baseball season i didn't care,
now can't miss it, it is better than the Superbowl today,
New England Patriots versus Kansas City Chiefs.

here to there

m and i used to be there.
what i see, that's how it is.
an internet live camera looks down on the piazza,
and it tugs at my heart to see Rome this way,

from here; and there it is.
look, now it's afternoon here
and being six hours ahead,
it's nighttime there already.

take a breath.
we'll work it out
and be together
Rome.

glance

waiting snow predictions, revisions,
while it is dusting white,
yielding little flurries;
the storm has not begun;

not the one to shut us in for a few days
or make a drive to the airport perilous.
long ago we'd look and guess the weather,
now we glance and know it will snow at 2pm.

until then

moving is jarring at first,
to find new paint, new walls,
favorite possessions moved to new places.
old tables suddenly turned around take on a look of new.

sun light comes in and through unexpected places.
new window views take getting used to.
waiting a few days will make all become familiar.
until seasons change and tilt the light

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.