An Unplanned Siesta

Again, I find myself

Standing at a crossroads,

Pondering directions.

Unsure which path to take.

Should I? Could I? Perhaps?

~

The sun is overhead.

At the roadside, flowers.

Birdsong lilts from afar.

Wheat heads rustle nearer.

~

It’s been a long journey,

Full of rush and bother,

That led me to this place.

~

Beside these thoroughfares

I shall pause, breathe, relax.

~

There’s time for a siesta.

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.

Failing Dams

Propelled irresistibly 

Downstream, caught,

 An unstoppable flood.

Images flash,

Uprooted trees,

Lost in the maelstrom.

Swirling flotsam, jetsam,

Tattered bits 

shattered pieces

all once held dear.

Beloved people, 

Untethered from context

Favorite places,

Unstuck from foundations,

Cherish mementos,

Unshelved from order.

Rolling downstream,

Dooming all ahead,

More weight behind

This churning mass.

Driving inexorably

 toward quiet peace

in endless, silent seas.