standing

 have to regain strength

so i'm standing on one foot

then the other, how's that?

i didn't think this up.

i'm sure doctors did, then

a young person gets a job showing

 me how to do it.

makes the money wheel spin.

keep america working. 

the virus runs again

where you been? 

Do it again.

reindeer, yeah

they're large animals.

 seems one male would be called a reindo.  like rambo

or rainbow cause they're a dream

and some are girls. sure are great to see.

i've their image in my mind to hold on to.

thinking good thoughts makes me happy. 

a few deer were outside this morning.

call them what you like, moving around out there,

they're beautiful leapers. 

a small boat in light ripples

 my Monterey, Snort, how sweet

our time together,

oh, how i patched you,

thanks,  Morgan.

 

ordered a two cylinder diesel engine 

from China. it came to the boat yard

and i put it in.  a pal set it straight

and i hooked it up.

i can taste the salt water breeze of the Pacific

when i think of it. 

 ***

hurray.

for the fiftieth anniversary of the Oakland bay bridge

i took my 28 foot sloop Navigator.

my nautical wood working friend Mike and Meri 

and along with many hundreds of other boats

on a quiet black night.

what a time, and that is what what a time means.

 

boats packed in like sardines out of a tin.

we did our part to be in the thick of music, lights and celebration

and got home without a nick.

all a part of life on San Francisco Bay

warm enough

 i've a pen on the table

 it's not ripping my pockets out.

 i'm able to jot notes with the computer.

i'll carry a pen if i have to.

i'll say it's a great day out. 

 

walking out i did five minutes three times, checking.

the  trash can is still waiting full.

third time, just got back and

the truck came, no kidding, i watched it.

so i went out a fourth time to bring the empty can in, 

finally, really, no kidding. 

7 October, what a day you've made.

 yeah, completely wonderfully warm.

lable today just right.

also, my brother in law, Gerry,

transferred 3000 pictures from my camera

to my computer, thus giving my phone camera

fresh life to begin again...more or less.

better than a phone rock full if photos.

staying loose

 the lines step out with a meter

and rhythm from my heart.

how about that, do sound right, eh?

don't know what i 'm thinking

while watching to the corner

can you dig it ... an affirmation

not a question, quite.

a coffee would set the day off

just right.

octobery

  a month to find the reason

to call this month pumpkins, pies, cooler.

and what howls in the night.

watch, wait and think - an approaching end to another year.

two hands, ten fingers.

how the wind blows, Sugar.

 

Peccorino is the name of the cheese

 Amanda raises goats.

Peccorino she'll tell you is the cheese.

back home her family helps goat watch. 

she returns every year to home near Naples.

 pistachio is put in. i have no idea how that works.

good cheese, good nuts,

good weather for a family home

good, good, good.

season slipped away

 in these parts summer has spent itself;

although this week will

make another temperature run.

don't get excited. 

when you look back you'll see

summer was close to swell, but 

this year seemed to run by quickly

and lacked the best of moments.

you know, sometime it goes like that.

i'm happy for what we had.

you do the same.

oh, summer will return next year

and knock us off our feet.

 

 

south to planktown

 drove down south some, we did.

decent day of sun, weather and all.

 saw no wagons this day.

 empty morning on the back-ways.

no rabbits out

not a one

even here at home they hid.

that's what we limitly saw, and what we did.

foremat

 some diet.  i am not eating meat

most of the time.  don't think about it.

once in a while at a rice place i have

some meat in a ground up sauce.

i wanted to call it our rice place.

we always go to the same one. 

there aren't many.

i thought i got turkey, but she said 

i had pork.  all the same to me,

whether i have it or not.

food is what i order.

the spicy i like.

not crazy spicy ... tasty.

flavor me, Babe

i'm cooperative. 

fall, the season

 fall is beginning.
let go of the heat.
 the weather remains comfortable.
look for apples.
when i think ahead i never want
to shed summertime, but my feeling
changes when the season begins.
also, i'm wearing a heavy shirt today
and am ready to wear socks.

our pal Blackie

 

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.

poets 1

 

a crowd of poets is a sad thing

sure they're always holding hands

but they're crying.

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.

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.

trash

Wednesday is trash day.
not make it, pick it up.
put it out and a city truck comes by.
the cans are so big i can't handle them.
refuse is one, recycle the other
two to go automatically.
giant robot arms pick them up
and turn the cans over above the truck.
i can watch and write about them,
that's it.

Elec

workers again
come aboard  ...

i remove myself.
take a lunch break.


eLectricity, i had to say it.
two guys playing with wires
for hours ...

good for them i leak money.

so

so if so
then you see.
near to you,
near to me.
the big tree, some rocks, flowers and weeds.
play outa while
look around some
watch for seeds
take it easy on your walk
it's pretty out there
enjoy the time out of doors

waiting days

then rain and off, 
blowing heavy drops.
call it stormy with thunder;
including one exceptional strike,
you must have heard it, felt it;
from the inside. the strike occurred here.
only one other time in my life did i
happen to be where lightning exploded.
oh, yeah, too close; made me jump.

ring on will ya

my goodness,

just when all's trashed

seems some work

to dump big-time

our sweet land of liberty.

where're you headed?

of thee i sing.

let us be proud again,

something to cheer about

from every mountainside, streetside

parkingplace,

get going now

let freedom ring.

two leaves fell

 i saw two leaves
fall from a tree, one of our
trees, way early; this is august,
too soon, still summer.
not time for falling leaves
2020 continues to be
a year of strange.
it does seem that way.

a change

summer heat slipped away.
so quickly.
were you expecting cooler weather?
i hadn't thought of a change.

then a week went by
other events distracted me;
i turned my head
 and now fall approaches.

blue jay

that blue jay is tough as an eagle

well, not quite, but thinks he is.

no matter who's on our bird feeder

blue jay will fly in when he wants to.

i'll smile again

never get closer than thirty feet
to that rabbit, we call ours,
we must be a blur
of large people
that live nearby
and are never focused on;
while in our hearts we're
kind and gentle although
the only thing we do is provide
undisturbed tall grasses and plants
for the rabbit to live in and chew on
and we keep out of the way.
sounds like bunny love, doesn't it.

workmen

two workmen have been here
 a week.  they are finishing
today putting in windows
and insulation.  i imagine
the job will be done well.

 what we've seen is good work.

when they're gone we'll have a
closer look and wonder why
we didn't notice a particular

while they were here. i think what we'll notice

for sure is that we prefer to have our space 

to ourselves without them in it.

opening round

on the grey start of this summer day,
when i got my coffee, took it easy ...
to the table. looked away
she was already sitting there, hair brushed. Looking

proper. i got our toast and butter. She asked for jelly.
then the house shook ... and a second time.
quickly. nothing to see.
why so booming?

thunder rocked us ... unaccountably.
no explanation
seems clouds had been building
then we got the boom

the buffalo

some rainy, foggy, chilly midweek

when secretaries call in sick
and postmen wear goulashes
go to the zoo and take in what’s left

splash along the water-covered concrete
past occasional trees bent, looking away
from the wind’s lick

see the muddy, mucky, peanut-shelled patch
where there stands the buffalo
knee-deep, with dirty, unkempt, matted hair
his eyelids closing out the drizzle
shoulders that held up america

clothed the indians in a montana mountain snow
fed starving wagoneers not quite to the promised land
mark of the plains
symbol of an era

it is fitting that he be visited
for his eyelids are closing now, america

ringing

my ears ring in the quiet.
i have to think to notice.
you'd say it is not possible
to hear what isn't.

i must occur to me
before i notice the space;
the lack of audio.
that's ear ringing.

now, where are the tapping woodpeckers.
there is wood enough.
perhaps it is a season when they tap more.
this is worth a lifetime of study.