Sleep takes over

Sleep takes over
It says
I am in charge
Whether you like it
Or not
So many things
Offer a nap
The waiting room
The cat
In the living room
Her eyes
Half-shut
She does not snore
But she can sleep
In any position
For any length of time
The cat
Under the covers
So many things
Offer
A nap.

Thomas and Emma

Thomas and Emma
Birds and flowers
Flowers and birds
They had the natural world
Captured
Witnessed
Offered
For all
To see.

Beet juice

When is a flurry
Not a flurry
But pale sprinkles
Of snow
No wind means
No flurries
But gently falling
Snow
So gentle
It is hard
To detect
No flurries
Certainly no blizzard
All the hidden words
For snow.
My beloved spent time
Last night
He found one way
To protect our bushes
From salt damage.
It seems spreading beet juice
On the sidewalks
Makes the snow easier
To remove.
We will wake in the spring
With purple walks.

I am not your metaphor

Ok
I know I walk
With a walker
And seizures are always
A possibility
Still
I am nor your metaphor
I am mine
You get your own.'

Near miss

I nearly missed
The sunrise this morning
Made me consider how many
I have missed before
I nearly missed it
Look
Look
Look
I told my Beloved
Look
Next I looked
It was gone.
There may be
Another one tomorrow.
Still
This one
Will never appear
Again.






  

Rain chains

Why do
 I rhink about rain
When snow and ice cover
The front walk?
Why do I think about the lawn
Not to mention
Rain chains
When I slip and slide
On salt and sand covered ice
Not melted
Because it is only
Nineteen degrees.
A modicum of dignity
Before I fall again.
Rain chains
In spring we will invest
In rain chains.

Rain barrel

Considerartion
The brain wonders
Wanders the streets
Flows with the stream
Out back
Wonders if
We might
Get a rain barrel
Like the duck lady
Across the way.
So many ways to consider
To wonder
To wander
To flow
They're endless
We consider
A rain barrel
To hold the water
Just in case.

Assembly

I assemble my life
Wonder what must go
What must stay
There are always things
Which must
Be culled.
There are always things
Which bear
Importance.
Who am I?
What am I?
I sit
I wonder
What is the order
Of things?

What time is it

Down the hole
I follow the white rabbit
What time is it?
What time
What time is it?
Everyone is mad
Down here
Down the hole
We sip our cups
Of tea
Mad as hatters
Asleep as dormice
What time is it?
What time is it?
Time for tea
Time for naps
Time to wake up
Time to wake up
Time to wake up

Last bite

I add more
To my plate
I see more
Subtracted
Bite by bite.
Yesterday two books
Went missing
Three references appeared
Today
Who knows?
Like Alice and the mushroom
I bite from one side
Then the other
What about
When I reach the middle?
Will I be stuck
With the caterpillar
Or
The smile?

Small triumph

I wake up in a different emergency room
Every time
Doctors check to see whether I know
Who the president is.
The last time
Was the worst
CPR and breathing tube.
Wretched hamburgers
In the ICU
I survive.

No end of things to share

The world shakes
And shakes
And shakes
It seems
There is no end.
Wildfires
Earthquakes
Drone attacks
Who or what
To blame?
So many things
To share.
There is no end
Of things
To share.
The earth shakes
And shakes
And shakes
So many things
To share
No end of things
To share.

Perched

Perched on the edge
Of an abyss
I do not know
What lies
At the bottom
I just know the rim
My toes grip
Perched
Like some bird
Who would choose to fly
Not leap
Perched
Considering the next
Step
The next
Swoop
The next leap
Into the abyss
I do not know
What lies
At the bottom
I just grip
With my toes.

Alas. Alas. Alas.

Alas.
Alas.
Alas.
I check the news
Every morning to see
Is it safe to get up?
Who won the Golden Globes?
Do I agree?
Does it matter?
From where did this cynic
Arise?
Alas.
Alas.
Alas.
I write nothing
About the Golden Globes.
Except this.
I am amazed it made its way
Into this poem
Alas.
Alas.
Alas.

In my culture

In my culture
We treat people
Like shit
Especially our nearest
And dearest.
He sits on the sofa
Next to his wife.

In my culture
I always win
You lose
You lose
You lose

In my culture
I litter the world
With one child
After another.

In my culture
It ends up
Lonely.
Lonely
Lonely
Until this wife
Cannot
Will not
Thank God realizes
She will not be treated
Like shit.