i hear it while i'm sleeping
and it only awakens me occasionally.
i won't roll around looking to see it,
but when it's coming down
i love the morning rain;
best is when i hear
the tapping drops.
poetry - jack sender - all of my life
i hear it while i'm sleeping
and it only awakens me occasionally.
i won't roll around looking to see it,
but when it's coming down
i love the morning rain;
best is when i hear
the tapping drops.
i must wait, see what.
can't have all the votes going my way.
it's unlikely, who'd believe it ?
anyway, it scares me so tension clings to me,
wading deep with each news report.
reading the book in an easy chair, seems
the way to take it, with a page marker
plus time out for a nap and a coffee.
supposed to be warm now.
slow temperature climbing,
the mail man's looking content.
brought nothing special yesterday.
imagine he's happy for a day without steady rain.
by late afternoon sun'll come though;
it'll warm like they said.
can't help wait for the two old men debate.
Trump and Biden.
running beyond October
shall be soon, with rain in the leaves.
where we be going
do not confuse.
stack us up fine,
love around is falling in those crispy colors
crinkling golden. the red is deeper than before.
geese will be honking.
you have to love this time of year
some news stories
are hard to take or evaluate
cautiously medical personal creep ,,,
do they weep? Ohio has record covid cases
third day in a week,
the same America
how many buffalo did we kill?
i like desert gas stations.
quiet out there
can we believe the news
what are we looking for.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.