Weak end

 piling on hours to construct the day.             got'em together. now what do you say? 

we can begin the next month soon.

don't bother to tell me when

you'll reach for the moon.

Great humidity

 a promise of heat, we'll see. 

morning is wet with humidity.  

rabbits are out and we are too. 

light walking and taffic. 

trees are quiet, birds are few. 

clouds are whisps, sky is blue.

we classmates

we classmates today gathered at the 

golf course Bar North for lunch and talking.

and remained inside in air conditioning on a terrible ninety -something degree, humid day. 

we numbered nineteen. Skip came all the way from Houston.

one long line of tables worked for our group.

you know, i met Cynthia, Tom Meyers and Leslie way, way back in kindergarten.

the rest jumped on this train along the way.  we've ridden together ever since.

another fine day we had.  such a good time for all.

this is why we return and see these familiar faces again and again.

Storm last night

 don't know where the bunnies slept.

i think close along the leeward side of the house.

or under the heavy fur tree.

Jeeze the rain was beating down.

and we had the largest booms i've ever heard.

 shook the earth.

made me nearly roll off the bed. 

but i didn't get up to look out the window.

halfway slept and rode out the storm.

let it happen by itself.

hey, i would have helped if i could've.

you should have heard the amount of water pounding on the house.

Flashing light

 saw lightning bugs

last night three lit

bright as car headlights.

soon summer evenings will bring countless

flashes filling the black yard,

flooding the darkness with blinkiing lights.

.

so softly

  i will care for you.

help along the way.

when turning at a corner

gentle wind will warm you.

stay well, dearest,

 all is night and day.

poet's today

a date doesn't have to be current.

 written well today.

mentioned by the poet,

fits now.

try it on, Clownie.

sit down next to me.

crowd me not.

we can't share bus tickets.

you  know i like to write about bus rides.

Shooting

 citizens are frustrated the government does  nothing.

so today people parade

 against guns and shooters.

children's lives have been taken.

what is the meaning of this? 

kids.  the world is for them.

let them play and have fun together.

holidays, family, celebration.

bring back playgrounds in our culture. 

get on course.

and of shooting,

middle and old age people 

don't want to get wasted either.

much sun

 the day before June how it goes.

to load up on sun when it shows.

the grey-edged folly in the heavens,

cool blue and brightness in the sky.

 while meri mows the last of our acre.

thick and long.

 a while it'll take her.

i'm glad she is strong.

Free time

 Thinking before or after writing

Either one is happening always

Unless i'm writing, then it is between time.

Like somthing to eat; just finished or is next.

Let us mark it all down.

what fits into this scheme are our creatures.

Loveable and quick.  One rabit ran out of the bush two days ago and nearly ran into me. he saw me and froze. we both did. It 

We looked at each other and wondered what would happen next.

notice our rabbits. they are here or abscent.

never half way.  mark it down.

lit

 from space our planet appears lit.

not well just lit, overly so.

our planet shines in the large space pond

when seen from somewhere out ... beyond.

Paint away

 it sits around too many months.

years now.

 throw old house paint away

at the paint dump in Elyria.

the worker guys were jolly, old, heavy, slow.

they gave us cardboard boxes for packing.

Oh well, jolly is too much.

say they're very happy.

then out in the world,

 heading to wellington,

streets are dry, traffic light.

stopped to see Tim the clockman,

he'll pack our grandfather clock,

port it to oberlin, oil and set it up.

he wears clothes and glasses

from a hundred years ago.

back to home before returning

to Wellington a second time to do taxes

with another great, easy fellow.

job day, okay. what do you say?

Weekend warm

 we'll have a few summer days                                                                                                 leaping on us out of nowhere                                                                                                     when we thought it would                                                                                                                  take a while to get here                                                                                                                   pow it's upon us                                                                                                                                thank god of good weather    

Mid week

 Cold morn, later warm.

heard the news.

poor families of little kids shot in texas.

the things we have to put up with.  

poor united states of america.

pals

 Being nice to my friends, thinking of them. how i enjoy seeing them even though i don't have a load of new happenings to report.

seeing you and saying hello means you elevate my happiness by being here.             so hello means you make me happy.

The color of summer

 It will be warm today, one of the warmest and looking out this morning i see the sweetness of summer the way it should be, warm in the heavy shade of green you want to see.                                                              birds and rabits all on board; beige and white, blending in. there are trees and bushes thick with life. now a heavy sprinkle of rain.                    what a day.                                                            a good morning for you

Little birds

  see the short birds

 running in the Wallmart parking lot.  

little ones.       Plump but look how fast they go.                                      

do they immigrate south when there's snow?    i haven't the foggiest idea.                           

seems would be hard for them to run like that on ice. 

they have a lot of tricks though.

 birds have developed good abilities 

for many things they can do.

in wood times - reprise

 t Tuesday, September 28, 2010 8 comments

in wood times - reprise

in wood times i've spent walking
gathering colors, tasting sounds
by ferns, tall grass, and animals
under the forest canopy, making rounds

flushing pheasants as i go
they streak off in a line
then to stop, a place i know
amid green berries on the vine

wild white rolling clouds above
reflect the light, contrast the blue
in nature's time i touch the love
and symmetry by which things grew

the wind plays light and sweet
with mint and closer scents
honeysuckle and wildflower complete
the multicolored firmament

at a small creek bank i pause to drink
and there, witness life within
a small plant reaches water's brink
the shoots are young and thin

where hours pass i cannot say
the sun marks shadows on the land
little voices beg me to stay
i promise trees, i'll come again

Slip by

 All has changed for the better.  Am I kidding myself. We saw the play. We're halfway gone at the intermission. Don't know why we came back. We did. The show did have some actors playing a dog and a chicken. They were the best parts of the show. 

  I'll.remember them when I think of the performance. Good blocking. Of course the dog and thr chicken talked - it was a play.

In my mind

 today we'll see a play.

 new ideas will fill our minds.  

thoughts will rise. 

i'll have to write things down. 

inspiration will clamor. 

this is an afternoon show. 

we'll come home in sunshine. 

that says a lot of goodness for us.  

we're not evening people.

Clocks are wound

 can't learn much but it's a start.                 Tim winds his 17 clocks every Sunday         now we follow his example starting today. the sun i see ricochet                                        off the house being built across the street. Rod complained about it.                        this morning i see it bright. he's right.                           he hopes it will not be another sided white.            i hope the clocks run smoothly.                    and stand with rod.                            learning about clocks takes time.

the last day we saw rain

 

the last  day we saw rain                                                                                                            then 2022 dried a while,                                                                                                                 a surprise we needed,                                                                                                               the land did too, while                                                                                                                 for this afternoon is                                                                                                                         projected two inches of rain.                                                                                                    that is a monsterful.                                                                                                                 how can i mark this                                                                                                                future projection down?

the day before the rain quit

 

the last  day we saw rain                                                                                                            then 2022 dried a while,                                                                                                                 a surprise we needed,                                                                                                               the land did too, while                                                                                                                 for this afternoon is                                                                                                                         projected two inches of rain.                                                                                                    that is a&  monsterful.                                                                                                                 how can i mark this                                                                                                                future projection down?

soft night train

 

no screeching last night.

in breaths of quiet, light wind
the train pattered like grandma’s slippers
sliding along the linoleum kitchen floor,
hardly going anywhere 

and the whistle was not a blaster,
instead it gave soft puffs
like puh, with a long breath between the next muh.
muh ma, as if needed to be picked up and cuddled

loud noise

27 august 1883
the loudest noise our
planet has ever heard.
circled the earth four times.
if you were nearer than
ten miles from Krakatoa exploding
you'd be deaf.
floating pumice fields 10 feet deep
clogged ports,
there was so much ash thrown in the sky that in Nicaragua, on the other side of the Pacific, the sun was blue. 

poem for us

what poetry means
are soft words
how we feel
blanket warm
in light of dawn

with a pleasant look on our face.

and music with delicious melodies. 

rest calmly night

 

no wind, yet the sea moves 

on slow long breathes in and out;

respiring a sweeping rush of shore pebbles.

folding waters cause an occasional boom on the shore.

the near full moon reflecting

white sparkles in the sea

throws scattered far reaching points of light,

in the nearly-still envelope of evening.

 

how you do it swell.

evening, you're a sweet song

i know you mean well,

i can tell by how you've done.

a small boat in light ripples

 my Monterey, Snort,

built in 1930s when the name 

meant a shot of whiskey.

how sweet our time together.

how i patched you

and worked to make you right.

thank you,  Morgan for selling her to me.

 i ordered a two cylinder, 900 pound  diesel engine 

from China.  it came to the boat yard in Sausalito.

i put it in.  a pal set it straight in the boat.

and i hooked the mechanical and electrical.

 

i can taste the salt water breeze of the Pacific

when i think of it.

oh, we had our tine running in the bay

and on the ocean.

 

 ***

 

hurray.

for the fiftieth anniversary of the Oakland bay bridge

i took my 28 foot old wooden sloop Navigator,

my nautical wood working friend Mike and Meri 

and along with over a thousand other boats

on a black windless night

 

 packed close like sardines a tin i heard them hitting  each other.

managing in the thick of music, lights and celebration

we  had a fine rime and got home without a nick.

all part of life on San Francisco Bay

sloop

a lengthy swift sloop at sail at sea
with half a breeze and half a sun as you man her
nowhere to go and no call to go
just time to set far back
look up to the tall sturdy mast
as nylon sails snap
to the occasional wind's lick

the ocean spits bits of spray
back and forth over the bow
with a gentle lift the shore is visible
then a recline and shore is gone
another lift and the long, low line of land is there again

no need for a shirt with warm air rushing over you
and your hair is twisted and thrown and dampened by spray
a red neck feels good and a tan face
makes it better to have lived this way
strong hands hold the ship to a meandering course
from nowhere
in particular
and back a gain

scattered over

 can't get away today,                                    going to cover us well                                         is the prediction,                                                      stay in to keep dry.                                      plus there is  more on the way                              with thunder they say                                  and we haven't even begun.                         now is quiet as France.  let's                    someday waltz across the bridge.                          with umbrellas