Mail

this mail delivery person is a guy.
took it out of his hand.
i got it as he smiled.
seemed easy.

however, i missed a package on the porch.
didn't see it.
and another in the mailbox...
didn't check.

thought how things got messed up.
kept going over the mental list,
thinking of stuff piled on.
jeeze o-pete.

deer here

three deer walked in our yard.
large, confident animals.
quiet...a team.
don't see them every day,
i thought then i would.
now three or four days later,
i'm waiting their return.

not wit

what a nitwit
shot john lennon...
who would have grown.
at least john had time with the beatles.

now the world waits;
for only now and then
even the great ones find a voice
that expands world wide.

them squirrels

one tree out there, by the window.

2 brown squirrels, small to medium.
don't get me wrong, they are both the same size;
between small and medium.

here's how they partner up:
one's runs down on the left side;

the other, the other.

they stick their heads in the snow,

dig around, come up with a nut.

a frosty way to eat.

i'm cold watching them chew.

cold and flurries, january,

week four, week to go,

this is january 20, 2020.

snow some

it's cold,
not way, but enough.
wind and light snow tonight,
they say.

radical clipping

i was in the mood for it.

Bill told where, so i went.
to the bangladeshi part of town, piazza vittorio.

for a shave and a haircut.
a bus ride got me there.

two barber shops'
side by side.'
walked into one less busy.

all seemed well,
the barber asked me how he should cut it.

i looked at him.
told him, "you're the barber."

i sat down got a sheet over me and he went to work on my hair.
with a shampoo, a big cut...a big change for me.

he did well.
radical, modern, but i took it.

thought about it...

figure i'd do it again next month

if i was around.
if i could find his shop.

wound tight

the string's off my dad's violin.
It leans against the wall,
not used now at all.

he played the songs.
the parties lasted long...
what nights of fest.

how they enjoyed laughter.
casual, no strain.
together in loving refrain.

so then...

I found more poems, and plan to sort them
while waiting for the strange winter to straighten
itself out. For now, there is no snow. This is the
warmest of Januarys I have seen. Clouds have
been heavy and colorful.

darkness

take this morning
while i was sleeping,
twisting in dream
then glanced at the clock;

could've jammed more thoughts in
but chose not to.
rather break from doing.
just rest, wait and see.

The mark

a new year
begins easily as a smudge
on the wall.
watch it now...holy cow,

see it hanging near the calender.
it's a circular plastic thing you set the piano wheels on. Circle, plastic - got it?
legs are in the air,

wheels on on the disc.
things okay.
move the piano.
smooth as my dentist.

now the piano won't
gouge into the floor.
can you dig it?
poems go well when you think about 'em.

streets alive

this day in rome
passed Jonathan of the Angels;
we looked in a flash.
both of us nearly
fell over, turning back
and smiling to shake hands.
been missing that face
I've known 25 years.
dog gone, he's out there looking good.
Good to see you, jonathan.


then the beginning of piazza navona
the print maker i've not seen thirty years,
we smiled and waved, and
it was so good to see the man again.
we both so much aged
but his face i know.
been a while since the last time we waved.

for many years
buffete due has been
pleasing to us.
gentle service, good cooks.
then it fell apart this trip
the second and the third times.

i'm crippled so
 no cost for any museum.
we only need
decide where and when.
did a poor job deciding
when to half the venizia,
and quit there.

saw Gii passing in the crowd,
he didn't see me.
Caught up,
Shook hands.
two other times he got by
drifting...out of gear.

then franco walked by. the next day,
Slippery as ever.
mario, brother of gii, said hello.
always a nice guy

saw roberto from the window.
lello is around this neighborhood.
talked to giacomo's brother, sandro.

graziano, and pino his friend.
angelo and simone.
a tight ship.

danella, gian, paula work
at cisternino.

the old man still sells prints near piazza navona.
thought he recognized me,
second time he didn't.

bright out

new year day month,
floating in my morning mind.
It looks like rain, didn't happen.
i used to look at the newspaper..
read some top stories anyway.

i'm ready. so is the coffee.
you know how quiet that makes the morning
when i'v got a cup i like.
sipping and looking out the window.
thinking of old times, happy to recall.

drifting again. salute with a bright smile.
making the morning look right.
know there is more.
the sky is clearing.

now i'm lightly spinning without direction,
never was my way.
need to figure the morning, where to go.
i'll get there. where i'm going. nothing changes.

rain on

take a steady winter rain,
enjoy the dreamy patter.

tail end

the whole thing is nearly over.
dot  all the i's, cross a few t's

did the year
start by slipping along quickly...
seemingly well oiled...
month after month.
quicker than I imagined...

is this an interrogator?
a part of speech.

moved right along. daily.
did you see it go by?

rain about

not enough to hardly say
more than a word about...i can
hold out my hand and feel
a drop i suppose...have to
walk down to the porch,
and it's early for that.  but '
i can hear it. that's the
best part...well, writing
 is good so you can
see it. all i've got to say is:
pretty damn warm for the
 last week in december. 

day beyond

Blank, oh
starting empty
and there is gladness for whoever needs it...
day after Christmas

speeding horse-drawn buggy
she's off and we're going to breakfast.
we pulled out lighter coats to wear.
we should be staring at each other...questioningly.

partly cloudy 62.
instead of buckling down for a snow storm.
it's off to shelby then to Planktown.
i wait in the car and watch

as five guys are
taking the old roof off,
putting on a new one.

slam bam, day after Christmas, it's sunny and dry.

world holiday

woke sneezing...
left-over cold held me tight.
It's not right,  it's time to move on.
for goodness sake
 Yeah, time to move on.
where are you?
forget about the cold business.

my dad was in the coal business.
folks shoveled coal into stoves to heat their homes. 
imagine winters like that?
i remember. i was born into it.

now, today, we're doing Christmas eve.
no snow anyway.
put your sleigh away, daniel.
plus, here's another thing,
we've turned the corner with the shortest day of the year.
so look ahead.
no need to shed a tear. summer is on the way-o.
we'll love the days ahead.
ole'  ole'

a.m. i am

i feel like corn on the cob.

riding around in the wagon with my pals

getting smashed up all day.

or this may be morning thinking.

give me some coffee and a half hour,

i'll put this all together.

times

many the times
we've  walked worn
grey, stone lines
alternating shadow and slips of sun,
a town rough to touch
smooth on the heart
under cold night lights or sun.
going to sit now and think about it.
here's a place.
ice cream and coffee.
just right in this
city of my dreams

been there

not too cold for Christmas.

but you want to have a picnic
better get a space heater
sunshine if it's daylight
and reindeer if it's Christmas.
go ahead, you choose.
the shoes is on your foot.
many options open.
so pick one, or not to be.
it's your wagon.
i think you can do well.

fish and hibi

had fried fish
small and entire,
at a table
in the sun, just off the street;
with a good glass of wine.

next day we crossed ponte sisto,
saw hibi and his bride.
that was a treat ... he reappeared.
i wish them well.

we see

seems late in the season.
give a reason
for thinking again
about ducks flying over ...
rather work a while, eh?
they do have a strong voice.
sweet if you're not too close.
power in a honk.
nothing sweet about it.
need a lake.
let ducks fly.

***

noon rain,
take it or leave it?
come and get it.
set your watch ...
missed today, good.

arista, pork roast and spinach

on vittorio emanuale
a 46 took us away.
 1200: bells chimed.
 may rain this 2 jan 2020

sirens as we crossed the river.
our bus crowd had gained strength.
everyone heard  the loud man with a voice squished, as he kept  talking.
a street car bell from a century ago sounded once sharply, sweetly.

we were aboard with
 a good bus crowd. stirred up.
privately we had anticipation of lunch 
i saw gorganzola on the menu and knew i would order it.

fury falls

inside is always silent.
a sound tight apartment we've rented.
from inside we heard the rain.
looked out to see a storm unleashed,
pounding like no other we've seen.
a memory rain apart from all others.

changed form

went to Trionfale, the market,
along our way,
at a corner
i met a Bangledeshi

speaks five languages
talks to people on the street,
small groups,sells them tours.
that's a slick talker.

angelo, simone

we don't
wake early
as they.
start in motion.

give joy,
serve all the potion...
in good attitude
day after day.

oh, they do;
and do again.
people keep coming back.
they make a visit there a pleasure.

four- twenty a.m.

four-twenty a.m. and i’m thinking poetry
in absolute silence
words run by
then piano phrases enter my head
for Some Enchanted Evening,
hearing Enzio Pinza sing some lines
it’s a heck of a way to wake up

and it’s nearly dawn,
street lamps still on
i'll make coffee in a while,
think of other things.
good morning world
how are you?

no rain tonight

running dry.
cool and okay.
on the road
low and our way.
see more silver
hollow help us,
heavens hold on.

tell me true.
turnover, take a right.
slow down will ya.
walking. on we go.
tenderly, so tenderly.
...
 rolling words on
and on.

where ya be?

my poem readers,
lookers for sure,
who or where
i have no idea.

***

i read new
poems daily,
warm and donut fresh,
sweet, no sugar,
with the scent of angels.

calm water

another rain day,
complete. inside
looking out.
then dress for
water everywhere.
gallons of it. more
 than seems reasonable.
hear splashes, patter.
dripping. splatter. drops.

i keep my neck covered,
don't need drafts...heard that somewhere, thought it seems reasonable;
getting comfortable.

it's winter, that counts a lot.
keeping from thinking chocolate.
 sounds desperate but
i'm just working away from candy,
when i call it candy i want to leave it alone.