Peaches
Produce
Closed Sundays
Mon - Fri
Favored for Flavor
poetry - jack sender - all of my life
ready to bail ...
the world gets watered like a dry flower pot.
no doubt of it pouring.
tension means no traffic ... a big lacka.
a train sounding comfort.
lacka, lacka, lacka.
come-a rocka my,
Come-a rocka my boat.
two days without seeing either one of the big ones, or our Little.
aware there is definitely less movement outsider our wondows.
we look at the appropriate hour.
missing small bunny she called Little was obvious.
daily for five months we had watched it chew clover, play, sleep and grow.
went from lying on the lawn
in one of the same spots every day
around 7 p.m.
to gone.
hardly aware of how easily the season slipped by.
we're enjoying summer thinking where to go because this is
finally into the heat of the season, then it rolls into fall.
just feeling it before the colors or coolness come bout
but no doubt; the change is in the air.
said as if done.
the man's on the run
heading this way.
will see how it goes.
holy mackerel, don't need anything
but a pleasant time.
what i want, what i wish
row the boat. catch a fish.
simplicity elasticity, musical notes in captivity
here this poem ends ... explicitly
now tune the piano?
and the man quickly did.
i remember the long shot of the morning sun, first thing, at the crack of dawn.
how it hit the kitchen wall.
that's how i learned where east was
and that the sun moved a little every day cause i made a small mark on the wall with a pencil where the sun first hit.
and the weeks became seasons and changed where i marked on the wall.
Oh, the color of the sun and the wall.
i'd mark small so my mother wouldn't see it.
like large stars people mounted on their houses,
because it was the rage a few years ago.
thank goodness it is out of fashion now.
Dump 'em.
i say that so a few more people will
take down the ridiculous stars.
while we're at it: retire the bucket list.
we don't need a list of special things we
must do in our lifetime.
didn't expect to look out this evening
to see frolicking two full grown bunnies.
for ten or fifteen minutes they did
typical rabbit play: hopping, running, staying close.
change comes whether you think of it or not.
are you talking to me?
keep your eye on the ball.
that's common sense.
don't know why i repeat the rules
eventhough the rules keep changing.
all seems so simple when you see the field.
stay within the lines. that's what they're for.
plenty hot and humid out.
though we've signs that another season will soon appear
line up, wash well, dry, stay clean, my dear.
and be ready for what change comes next.
no yogurt with dry cereal this morning.
sure they exist, but forget about it.
today it's zucchini bread and butter
so moist and light
it tastes like cake - the bread does.
not a tough meal to take.
call it a tasty breakfast.
but don't talk with your mouth full.
Old school mates, from 61 years ago.
That says it. That, and: my goodness.
Imagine seeing someone you once knew that you haven't seen for a lifetime.
A wonderful event.
A tremendous wow to all, even persons reading this. You get the idea. It doesn't often happen.
Of course It warms the heart.
stand back, make room.
no obstruction, time is moving.
open road free wheeling,
fine weather hauling.
hills won't matter.
free spirits chatter.
songs are calling.
we're heading home. we're heading home.
there's one reported this a.m.
a solo rabbit at first light; out scouting.
all the great night storms predicted
resulted in a sprinkle.
so night ran quietly on hardly a breeze.
74 degrees This mornin', warm as you please. 85 this a.m.
looking at cloud thickness all day.
and hey, now i can hear it raining.
to you i send a warm hello
and advice to keep a lookout for what's ahead.
how prepared can you be?
please, be as best as you are able.
after a night out staying fully alert.
morning wakes in silence, no one hurt.
energized and tired, all in one.
time to to sleep, no need to run.
this is home land. safe for all.
good dreams, my friends. wall to wall.
not since april
has another month begun with A.
put a note up with a staple.
into this tree, mark it maple.
around on tables.
here they are. seems many.
just reading one at a time; or two.
i tell you reading keeps me company.
books tell a story.
the town we came to last
October with Catherine my daughter.
the town is Wooster,
an R instead of W and you'd have Rooster.
an hour away when you figure.
good weather, good country drive.
ordered the Evelyn 13 again.
leftovers were boxed and became supper.
John walker caught me, turned came back
we talked the morning with interest covering his current book and frogs.
i explained how the principal takes a position.
he will look now to see who is boss .
i have to speak up for him to hear.
John lives in his world as i harbor mine.
we are comfortable talking.
i made a four line poem as an example.
that's how comfortable the space john gives me.
always i'll speak louder, more clearly.
he walks miles each day.
i call him john walker.
a good soul.
skip the prediction.
sure we have the complete thick
all the way up and across, from one
side to the other plus up and down,
it's totally gray with no darkness
anywhere.
so it doesn't seem like rain will fall.
not immediately.
maybe after a while.
three minutes after i finished writing this
i turned my back and
it began to rain ... hard.
with expectations that never again
to wake thinking, worrying
about the great black work being
done on our driveway ... good luck.
today they pour, roll and spread smooth.
will it smell?
and the rabbits keep away?
and, yes, we've good weather;
there is no rain.
quietly near summer sunset
in the back yard three rabbits appear.
they don't walk or run out.
quietly they appear at once.
our little one is surrounded,
and may be the attraction.
ten minutes later they disappear.
The workers are going at the drive.
Monday will see them put down asphalt.
That will be the end of it for them.
For us it starts our hundted foot stretch
of driveway. Clean, smoothed.
Easier to walk on for me.
A sight prettier than gravel.
We'll see how it affects the rabbits.
They are our interest now, until the day they disappear for the winter.
A lot of trees, an acre of land and tabbits.
Of this we care.
and i remember at the end i told my friend Joe i'd have to move back to California again. during the dream i know the weather was fine.
if i was down by the boats i'd really like that. i guess my friends and the boats i knew are all gone. Even Mike at the shipyard is probably retired by now.
it's better to just dream some and feel good about the marina in Sausalito, California. i have warm feelings when i think about it.