By sunrise first rays
Treetop branchlets a glisten
While upon the forest floor
We remain deep in shadow
Advertisements
Climate and Climax 101, Kelly Craft
Pulling out don’t work!
Any man says that’s his plan?
He’s no man; best replace him!
Simple Thanks
As I contemplate
The things for which I’m thankful,
This Thanksgiving Day,
My thought keep on returning,
Almost without fail,
To this grand experiment,
Managing somehow
To maintain its functioning
Despite ill intent
From an elected leader
Lacking heart, and soul, and thought.
Sharp Serrated Sarcasm
“You damned liberal!
I’ll bet you LOVED Obama!”
“You would lose that bet.
He was too conservative.”
Thrill to hot coffee spit-take.
Haiku 18 Nov 2018
A glorious end
Writ large ‘cross the firmament
Restores perspective
Expected Voids
November’s slipping
Quickly into history,
Leaving, in its wake,
A predictable absence
In the forest canopy
Sanguinary Expressions
My Birthday, surprise,
Artsy opportunity!
A Rorschach in red!
On Gratitude…
A labor of love
Or, at least, one of duty,
Quickly forgotten
Still provides satisfaction…
If you don’t look too closely.
For the Farmer and the Fisherman
Today I walked alone,
Silently, among the fallen.
Snowy cold, standing stones
Basking ‘neath the setting sun
Stretching to eternity.
Here among these Legions,
I came across the one
Bearing my mother’s maiden name.
One of many, stretching back
To our very founding;
Fathers, grandfathers and greats.
Not all of whom retired here
To this, once, grand old estate.
Another found, I know, his rest
In a distant mountain stream,
The place he lived his later life,
The place he loved, by far, the best.
I honor them, those grand old men,
My few, among the many,
Not only for their sacrifice;
I honor them, out of love,
And, I suppose, that must suffice.
Dyspepsia
This delightful meal
Shattering at intervals
By excessive cacklings
Of bored housewives faking mirth.
Stuck in the Middle with Him
Three oh one point nine!
Broadcast on all the networks.
Label it Fake News
And some will eat that sandwich
Unaware its their last meal.
Our neighbors may, even yet,
Construct and pay for his great wall
If only to shut him in.
And could you blame them?
Hopefully, in time
When we wake up and appeal
For them to let us exit
They will show us charity
Alien to our leader!
The Morning After
When cheers subside
And mournful sobbing ceases,
All that remain is more mess.
Water Colors
Autumn rains adorn
This boring white county van
Parked beside urban forest
Civil Disobedience
This Election Day
Exercise uncivil rights.
Go drink his cup of coffee
Then cast your vote for the girl.
