Morning Traffic

 

Vehicles rumble down the road

outside my window

destined for mysterious locales

or maybe banal borders

in hidden states.

Mind trips in contemplation.

leashed

 the pug pants as we walk the trail

short legs refuse to keep up
and energy fades
she chooses not to move so
must be carried

Meanwhile her beagle sister
tugs the leash to greet
all we pass and smell
each inch of ground,
energy unflagging.

Congregation

 

Mourning doves congregate below my deck

heads bowed.

A single bird stands forward

from the huddled mass

and watches me through the window

beady eyes filled with distrust.

At some invisible signal,

all raise their heads.

They croon a hymn and process forward

jostling for a front position

before exiting in waves

and soaring into a shaft of morning light.

Tulips Rise

 

Tulips rise

Brave in cold spring weather

Pink and yellow blooms

Push skyward

Deer snack on ice-kissed buds

Winter Dip

 

Waves of snow

thrash sand and

rock and shells.

 

Steam rises over open water

   or is it spirit

lifting off?

 

Either way, we shiver

anticipating the frigid embrace

ahead.

Pray for Peace

 

I leave my bed unmade

my dreams unfinished

and my door open

in hopes that peace will wander in.

Faces on the TV telegraph tension.

Furrowed brows and pain-filled eyes,

these are the lucky ones. Some

already lie still and cold and sightless

amid shattered buildings.

Ukriane’s brave build defense

one bottled wick at a time

and, tongue in cheek,

offer to return starved behemoths

to their origins.

The bear roars and rears while

the weary rest in subway warrens

and pray that peace will

find them.

Hunger

I lose my mind among stacks of books and

find it amid words.

Ideas circle like cartoon stars

that follow a blow to the head.

But the impact is internal and words

swim before my eyes,

enough minnows to feed a pod of whales

or flocks, and flocks of hungry herons.

Words dart here and there.

Some form patterns.

Others go about their unfathomable ways.     

So many books.

Delicious slippery covers beneath my palms.

Paper, some rough and some smooth, meets my fingertips as I

turn pages and corners in my mind.

Black on white, meaningless to some but

sacred to me,

text flows from left to right,

top to bottom.

All pages devoured, I sigh,

sated, and pause before…

seeking more.