Wilderness
thought it was
a dog
run out
cross four lanes
like a shot
out of nowhere
but when the car ahead
hit the dog
and it fell to ground
saw it was
no dog at all
but a baby deer
lost its way
and there was
the hospital
just to the right
of the roadway
TL
Chopin
bring a key
an ivory key
that can open
all the locks
of all the doors
castle or cardboard
let it turn
hardened heart
to yearn
not for that
but for this
rise and fall
the procession
of us all
“Funeral March”
TL
Raindrop
sit by
the river
watch the water
whence it comes
whence it goes
over rock
and sand
past time
and place
puddle to brook
stream to sea
the water moves
endlessly
TL
Featherweights
little brown
birds
fight at the feeder
one, two
one, two
then away
to their corners
they wait
‘til the belted Blue Jay
takes off
then back to the ring
the little brown birds
bob and weave
and pay no mind
to the carrier Cardinal
or the white wing Dove
but the Jungle Cat,
who tiptoes on silent leaves
round the rooted tree,
is like a bell
that rings
“Fight Over!”
TL
Sacrifice
over your shoulder
what do you see
was it the way
it had to be
or did it have to be
that way
at all
was it hard
to see
what is hard
to miss
was it worth
the weight
how much
is too much
and if you could
bear it
would you bear it
sunk in soil
far from ray
would you lift it
this weight away
or would it be
too much
how much
is too much
TL
Endurance
the tea
is ever green
steeped in ancient herb
blended balance
for the beam
A to Z
come what may
sting of rain
or buzzing bee
heel to toe
don’t look down
just let it go
TL
T I M E
a constant coin
that never stops
turning
and you can be
heads one second
tails the next
and all the while
you’re getting older
and you’ve been where they’ve been
and you’re going where they’re going
and you look out your watercolor window
and the sun is the same
the rain, the wind
but the landscape
is different
is more
is less
TL
Farmers
and the AC
was blowin’
full blast
and all the bulbs
were burning
room to room
and the dishwasher,
the dryer,
the oven
were all ticking
and the vehicles
were parked
and the frig was full
like the faucet
like the dog
like the house
and there sat the TV
with all its channels
click, click, click
and here was this guy
peering outta the box
wearing a cowboy hat
that actually fit
like the lines on his face
still handsome and rugged and real
and he was talking ‘bout his daddy
how he farmed the land
how he survived
the Dust Bowl of ‘35
how he plowed
sunup to sundown
how his hands hurt something awful
how, even so, he’d go
pick up that ‘ole fiddle
and play
“his hands would be bleeding …”
and as he told that story
he wasn’t on TV
he was on a farm
back in Kansas
sitting on the floor
listening
to his daddy play
for him
TL