First you must apply

New perspectives from new positions.

Before
You get a job
First you must apply.
Part of my work
These days
Is riding
With
Cookie
Samosa
Feeding cab drivers
Listening to their perspective
On how God operates
In the world
Do you know
Everything is
One?
God is One?
Some people
Don't know
This.
If I had not applied
I would not
Have heard
This sermon
From the front seat
Delivered
With a samosa.

Sometimes things take longer

A glimmer of a possibility of something I had not expected. Sometimes things take longer.

Sometimes things
Take longer
Than we ever
Could have imagined.
Me?
I write.
I watch birds.
I watch cats.
I learn
To be fed samosas
By Indian cab drivers.
Sometimes things
Take longer
Than I planned.
Most times things
Take longer
Than I planned.
Words
Land
On the page.
Birds
Land
In the bushes
Out front.
Cats
Sleep in the sun,
Remind me
Things take longer
Than I expect.

Thistle seed sock

When we don't feed the birds, they find a way.

We forgot to hang
The thistle seed sock
This summer.
Still
Goldfinches also eat
Dandelion seeds.
They may not
Have eaten dandelions
If we had provided
Seed
In a sock.
We may not
Have seen them eat
Dandelion seeds
Spit out
The fluff.

Samosa

I have now had this driver twice. He has fed me both times.

The cookie driver
Brought me
A samosa yesterday
His wife
Is the cook
In the house
The samosa driver
Is always early
It is important
He says
To honor
Another's time.

Just as he was

Mark 4:35-41

If I was the preacher, I might have reflected on this, although there is virtue in the calming of the storm.

One of my favorite
Scripture passages.
Jesus said
To the disciples
Let us go across
To the other side
So they did.
It begs the question:
The other side
Of what?
To where?
So they took him
Just as
He was
As if
He could be
Anything else
Anyone else.
Everyone preaches
On the calming
Of the storm
I wonder
About
The Other Side
Who He might have been
If he wasn't Jesus.

How's my girl?

I remember George Eckhoff, a gentle amazing man. I remember being swung around

When I was ten
He picked me up
Swung me around
How's my girl?
How's my girl?
I would giggle
He was a friend's father
How's my girl?
I would giggle.
He was also
My fifth grade
Sunday School teacher
He was the one
Who made sure
The church had
A memorial garden
Outside the door.
He came to both
My parents'
Burials
But of course
He did
How's my girl?
How's my girl?
How's my girl?
Of course
He was there.

Small comfort food

Though it didn't make its way into this poem, my least favorite was liver.

She was an expert
In small comfort food
Cooked cauliflower
In a pressure cooker
With bread crumbs
Made hash
From the end
Of the well done
Roast beef
Run through
The meat grinder
Served with ketchup.
Small comfort food.
Overcooked spinach.
Green-grey baby peas.
We each had one thing
Which was
The most uncomfortable.

No mackerel there

 ADA experiences. Who knew?

Yesterday was fish
My driver
Wanted to know 
What my husband cooked
How he cooked it
He had never heard
Of mackerel
I learned
That his sect
of Muslims
Do not eat crab
He grew up
In Pakistan
on the Indian Ocean.
No mackerel there.
So much to learn.
He drove me there.
He made sure
To pick me up
And drive me home
Continue
The morning's
Conversation.
Apparently
There is a queue
Of clients.
Yesterday
I was chosen
Out of turn.

Drivers

I am going to rent 2001 and see it again. It's time.

Yesterday's morning driver
Fed me cookies
Do you like cookies?
He asked
When I got in the cab.
The evening driver
Knew everything 
 Medical
His name was
Dave
It had me thinking
Of 2001, A Space Odyssey
And the computer
All the way home.
I knew everything
About his life
By the time
We arrived.
Dave
Dave
Dave
Said Hal
I wonder when the drivers
Start to repeat.

Ants

This guy was good. We let ants live outside. Outside is their territory.

He rang the doorbell
Three times
Ants
I see ants
He said
Do you have ants
In the house?
On occasion
I said.
We can help you
Get rid 
Of the ants.
He quoted
A slightly lower price
Each time.
Ants.
We have a theory
About ants
I said.
Our theory
Is that ants belong
Outside
We let them be
Outside.
Inside
Is ours.
49 dollars
he said

Plants

Some strange sculpture,

The lessons today
Were all
About plants,
Much like this weekend
Was
All about plants
God deciding
What would grow
What would fade
Us not the ones
In charge
Of such things.
We dug out
The dead elderberry,
Planted
A mock orange
In its place.
The elderberry roots
Look like
Some strange sculpture.
We will keep it
As a reminder
We are not
In charge.
We will nurture
The mock orange
See what happens.
Still
We are not
In charge.

I claim every single gray hair

It's important to look back as well as forward. And learn.

I claim
Every single
Gray hair.
How else
Would I know
What to say?
I want credit
For every single year
Of life
For every single year
Of living
Awake
Or unconscious.
If anyone had told me
I would know
What I know now
I might have
Rolled my eyes.
I remember
My two year old son
Learning to roll his eyes
From me.
We all have talents
Learned
Or innate.

Learning

Learning how to be part of the ADA system. Everyone has his or her own opinion.

Each driver
Wants to tell me
How the system works
Expect everyone
To be late
Unless of course
They are early.
In four rides
I've had both.
My walker
With a seat
and bell
Lets me
Soak up
The sun
Unless it's raining
Then I sit under
An umbrella.
So far
It's been sun
And mist.

Foto foto fun fun floater

What was your first job?

My first job
Was in a photo booth
In a grocery store.
I introduced myself
to customers.
I said
Please take a brochure
To help you
Take better pictures
This summer.
I wore
An orange and yellow
Polyester dress.
I went from store
To store
Filled in
For those
Who had called in
Sick.
It is amazing
I lasted as long
As I did.

Journeys

I am grateful I did not begin life in a dresser drawer.

Journeys:
They are meant
To continue
Mother's
Father's
Arms and beyond.
Some begin life
Cradled
In a dresser drawer
Some
In a soft swaddle
Rocking
Rocking
Rocking
Journeys:
They are best meant
To begin
Someplace soft
So before hard times
Come
We know
Someplace soft
Exists
And hard
Is not all
There is.
Journeys:
Soft and hard
and soft again.

Great spangled fritillary

There is a butterfly called the Great Spangled Fritillary.  An amazing name. Who would not want to be a fritillary, much less a spangled fritillary.

The wonderment
Of animal names:
Who decided
They are great
Or small
Spangled
Or dotted
Magnificent
Like the frigate bird
Tiny
Like the shrew
Or vole.
In relation to what
I often ask
But then
I am full
Of such questions.
What is great
What is not
So great?

What's in a name?

I am named after my grandmother and my aunt. Both singular women. I like the singular part.

What's in a name?
Yours
Mine
The Queen of Mars?
Were you named
After anyone
Or were you free
To make a completely
New definition
From scratch?
What's in your name
My name
Does the man in the moon
Have a name?
Does it change
with the phases?
When it is full
When it is neap
When it completely
Disappears
Does it change
Its name?

Is it time?

Another in the sign series.

Is it time
To write a book?
Collect poems
Into a semblance
Of order?
Is it time to apply
For Social Security
As if such a thing
Exists?
The idea,
Appeals to me,
Like the storage facility
I passed every day
To work,
Safe Space Self Storage
It said
One more of the signs
Which marked
My life,
The knowledge
That a storage locker
Waited
For me.
In time.

Expression

In seminary we were told "Every sermon will not be a sonnet." Thank you, Bob Shahan. Expression is important for each of us, no matter what emerges. Sometimes I forget.

We all,
Express ourselves
Differently.
Some write books
Or poems
Or sermons.
Some sing songs
To their children.
An audience
Of one
or two.
Some paint
Ceilings
Even
The Sistine Chapel.
Some lay floors
Tile back splashes
Plain
Or decorative.
Decorative
Is of course
In the eye
Of the beholder.
It all
Is in the eye or ear
Of those
Who see,
Those
Who listen.

Blueberry bushes and Felix

One hole dug
One bush planted
Second hole dug
Cable cut
No TV
No WI-FI
Turtle waits
In the freezer
For hole
Number three.
Alas.

Sound effects

How does a Foley artist work with those who cannot hear? 

I would like to be
A Foley artist,
Offer sound effects
For those who cannot hear,
Mark the effects
In the palms
Of their hands
Show the effects
In my face
Watch those effects
Leap
To theirs.