I’ll give you a reason to cry… September 18

9.18

I live in such a nice place, no

blown in walls, no blood

on the floor where the soldiers

came to beat my family raw.

 

I can walk around the block,

down a trail, even at growing

dusk, and not fear animals of

four or two foot vengeance.

 

Flame marked buildings do

not dot my neighborhood

and if I speak my faith no

one will come to bomb me.

 

Which is why I do not under

stand why we fight over a

few more dollars to pay for

all this, or to help.

 

Original sin, something wrong

inside, is all I can think, that

pushes-pulls us to find a reason

to be unhappy.

 

I’ll give you a reason to cry, my

dad used to say before swatting

me. It’s Ok dad. I had reasons in

side me already. We all seem to.

 

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old cat – September 16

9.16

old cat struggles up the

stair, then plays

with her cloth and paper

mice.

 

bat, bam, pat. she whacks

them just  within reach

of her kitty

paws

 

spread out on her grey

fluffy back at ease

e’en while the tail

twitches.

 

old cat enjoying,

surveying,

all of her quiet

domain.

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two hundred thou – September 15

9.15

we do maintenance

on the old car, bicycle,

body.

 

At two hundred thou

everything needs a

checkover

 

and every system shows

its age.

 

lube those parts that

didn’t used to crink.

they do now and so do we.

 

maintenance at two hundred

thou. we all hope to get there.

———————–

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dabbings of yellow – September 14

9.14

dabbings of yellow, an occasional

red, a forty degree drop overnight,

the trees and temps are turning

like lemmings to the sea.

 

early leaf drops scatter the ground,

the air sniffs crisper, the sky a little grayer,

the eye grasps with practice and percept

patterns beneath that vein through all.

 

spring beginnings and summer heat over,

the maturity of autumn limns a time of wisdom

and wholeness, the goodness of rest with

knowledge, steppings out with toughened feet.

 

lipping light rainfall sheds solace now in a world

made all the more beautiful by its passing of time.

yellows, reds, even crispy drieds, the beauty surrounds

us as the daylight fades earlier.

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maturity – September 13

9.13

my eyes are aging, the slow

falling apart disturbing when

the answer is you can’t fix it.

 

accepting the disintegration

is an affront I am not ready

to let go or give in to.

 

they say that acceptance is

one of the marks of maturity…

screw ‘em.

——————–

 

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pond walk – September 10

9.10

elongated feather neck stretching

skyward, wonderfully  prehistoric

amidst grasses burst tall on shore

and pond. drought has lifted their

length above the receding waters

flinging new green swaths across

the tepid waters. rowings of ducks

line out, mother to sons and daughters

while fathers lay off to side for

protection and alarm. a step, glimpse

of our pattern and the whole rises

to further shore safety. but not

the black and white geese who know

the power of their collective. short

of shot, they will not be moved nor

troubled. it is we who will pass by

and be gone.

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tan legged woman – September 9

9.9

tan legged woman works

the garden while I ride the

mower in a yard and home

we have created together.

with boys out it is now the

two of us. as it was in the

beginning is now and ever

shall be, two of us together.

that is my prayer.

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blank pages #1 – September 8

9.8

a blank page to face after a long

long long day, the mind doesn’t

always know what to do or to play,

but the fingers reach then to

the tops of the keys, and words

spring themselves loose as if

there at ease.

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tell me a story daddy – September 7

9.7

the childhood books speak to my

inner heart and the child inside

saying tell-me-a story-daddy

still

 

a wonder at voices that can

turn the night moment into

something warm and precious

and caring

 

to surround me with comfort

and courage and trust that it

will be alright and I can

sleep tight.

 

tell me a story daddy, and

let me know again that it

will be alright when I

awake

 

in the morning.

———————–

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racoons – September 5

9.5

the racoon shakes the bird

feeder until it falls to the

ground

 

the homeowner rails and

grumbles and takes it 

down

 

the birds miss their seed

all gone and done

 

and God watches 

as we humans 

act like racoons.

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