As you lay dying,
I went out to mow the grass,
Knowing it a task
I’d be able to perform
With a bit of grace,
Preparing myself to try
To bid you this last good bye
With dignity and honor.
Haiku 26 May 2023
I am contented
living here in Virginia
my remaining days
Haiku 20 May 2023
Sometimes lofty clouds
Fall from their great heights, to rest
Close upon the ground.
Guarding Antietam
It started somewhere up the hill,
Some great bitter ragged fight
Full of yowls and shrieks of rage
Marking some mammalian plight.
Down the hill they, crashing, came
Through the leaves and underbrush
The neighbor’s black and white barn cat
Running fast in fevered flight.
Hotly pursued by one vexed vixen
Likely guarding kits and den
From the existential treat
Slinking from the barn next door.
And like a school yard monitor,
Not knowing prey from predator
I intervened with one loud bark
That sent them off their separate ways.
My green’s not your battle ground
On which to die, ‘least not today!
Chōka 8 May 2023
I’m done racing rats
Through a seeming endless maze
Chasing smaller chunks
Of stinking green Limburger.
I see, now, the trap
Set by those soulless fat cats
To keep us from succeeding.
What’s In A Name
How dare they name it “The Preserves”;
Their tacky little neighborhood
Full of plastic McMansions
Standing there in stately rows
On their vast 2 acre lots
Like so many well marked graves
On land that’s been a family farm
Since the Sixteen Sixties?
~
I suppose some urbanites
Accustomed to the chaos
Of their hurly-burly cities
May regard this rigid mess
Of restrictive covenants,
Invasive fruitless pear trees,
And precisely sculpted lawns
As an earthly paradise.
~
And I suppose, on second thought,
The name Preserves may be correct
In so far as plastic jars
Of Strawberry flavored Jam
Can be said to be preserves
Of the many luscious bowls
Full of plump, fresh picked, fruit
Served along with Clotted Cream
And Grandma’s pound cake sliced, still warm,
From her ancient oven.
03:32
Sometimes I waken
Long before the sky turns grey
Just to lay abed
Pondering the day ahead
Failing to resume repose
Haiku- 30 Apr 2023
A gift of spring rains
Washed from the highest tree tops
For mere earthbound souls
Senryū- 28 Apr 2023
I don’t want to know
what distant shelling sounds like!
Ignorance IS bliss.
Caveat Scriptor!
There’s a shocking revelation
attuned to every pen nib’s scritch
but writing will, soon, consume you,
If you dare to scratch that itch.
This is not an easy path;
nor breezy way to strike it rich.
There’s no need to parse that sentence;
creative writing is a bitch.
Our Country, Black and Blue?
Perhaps it ‘s finally time to strike
that monochrome, blue striped bastard,
abomination of our flag
(the sacred symbol of our country,
emblem of all that we hold dear,)
that takes a stand for harsh repression,
desperation, hate, and fear.
I reject your blind defiance
of our citizens, repressed
who have gone a step too far
in their hope to find redress.
Their mistaken, hasty actions
don’t confer on you the right
to take our country’s noble flag
and corrupt is as the vile banner
of your self-righteous foolish fight.
The Down-side of Roofs.
“Like the poem, not the content,
of course!”, I say,
as I wait patiently for roofers of my own.
“We’ll be there in the morning…
and out of your hair by noon…
That shed’s a small job- no time at all!”
…
…
…
While making my lunch,
roofing materials arrive…
Trienta Minutos, Señor, the roofers they come!”
…
And three times thirty minutes later I wait,
All alone…
With the cat…
who, at least has flitting birds to stalk
on this sunny afternoon.
Gabba’s Grove
Beside a small pond
hidden in a cedar grove,
a homely shed stands,
indifferently attended,
not for lack of love
but for aching old bodies,
children too busy,
and grandchildren far too young
or moved just too far away.
Where Leviathan Lurks
Pain’s abyssal depths
can’t be adequately plumbed
with a Likert Scale.
Aroil in Pain 