they say the stars are falling
falling from the skies
I see them falling with my eyes
but never heard a falling star cry

I sit and watch the life of leaves
conversing with the breeze
but when I try to eavesdrop
tinnitus’ tones peal

they say the stars are falling
falling from the skies
I used to miss their music
the inflection of their rise

their lyrics became mealy
melodies to mysteries
but I can still feel that baseline beat
and follow lips while watching oldies

birds fly by in silent soar
without a flap sound, flutter or tweet
perhaps my heart has gone numb with my ears
I don’t miss it anymore

does loss decrease life’s value
or make it all the more precious

they say the stars are falling
falling from the skies
I see them falling with my eyes
but never heard a falling star cry

the joy of breaching
have you ever seen stingrays fly?
not just popping their heads up
taking a quick peek at sky
but completely clearing the ocean
even doing alley-oop-summersaults
vertical 360's in mid air
strength and gracefulness
their flight as fluid as paper airplanes
the wetness of salt watered skin
shimmering in sunlight
dark gray against cerulean
fin wings flapping in wavy curly movements
outwardly oscillating like sound waves
wagging tails like happy dogs
leaping out of their element
with confidence and exuberance
and bidding onlookers to do the same

for a Lovely Lady

we're growing old and things have changed
our health ain't what it used to be
at times my eyes can't really see
fine print can be tough for me
my ears can buzz, snap and ring
flattening the notes I sing
my strength has gone the way of youth
and dentures now replace my tooths
my knees may creak and fingers ache
but emu oil works, for goodness' sake
I've earned my stripes and can't complain
we still enjoy walks in the rain
we may no longer be so young
but, Lord, we still have lots of fun
our time together is not over
as far as I can tell
we've plenty of moments for picnics in clover
and so many roses yet to smell

If I died tonight
if I closed my eyes to sleep
and never awakened
beyond the initial sadness
would anyone really care
did I make a difference
did my life truly matter
to anyone
or in the grander scheme
was I kind and generous
did I treat people well
thoughtful of their needs and wants
did I take care of myself
so others wouldn’t have to
did I hold a door for a stranger
and give food to someone hungry
did I look in a passerby’s eyes
and smile a greeting
did I live in a cave
or commune in a village
did I appreciate my circumstances
did I have fun and laugh often
did I get anything done
did I love anyone
and did anyone love me

elevator was full
when the bell 'dinged' and the doors opened
on the geriatric floor
mom was lost in the back
intimidated by the crowd
she held out her hand
for me to pull her through
some folks chuckled
with their haughtiness and sun glasses
such silly, ignorant people
I guess they thought I had an old girlfriend
from then on
whenever she needed to
she would hold out her hand
for me to help her

got to know her better
in her old age
learned to ignore her crankiness
and façade of always knowing better
just watching tv and joking with her
evoking a giddy laugh
or a toothless smile
drawing her bath
seeing to her needs and comfort
dealing with her doctors
eyeballing her meds and diet
comforting her tears

paramedics whisked her to ER
they found a tumor in her stomach
her children and grandchildren kissed her
on her cheek and forehead
en route to pathology's biopsy
when they rolled her bed past me
I gave her a thumbs up
hoping she would return it
instead, she held out her hand
she must have been scared
I held if for a moment's reassurance
but this time I couldn't pull her through
she survived the surgery
but never made it home

every year she cut the biggest and brightest
keeping them in a brown bagged pantry to dry out
reaching in to crumble them at season
winnowing the chaff to wind
like her mother and aunties before her
back home in their island paradise

a magical notion
jostling seeds in slow motion
looking like crests on the ocean
neither too high nor too low
broken petals fly free
as seeds fall back of their own gravity

the kids would come ‘round
as projects kids do
to watch and maybe try something new
she would pass them an old melamine plate
a small handful of crumblings to ply
tossing and scooching to catch them again

crimson reds and magentas
lemony yellows
monarch butterfly oranges
violet and lavender purples
crowning petals layered
resembling elizabethan collars

they caught the morning
protected by snail and slug repellent
people came from all around
to admire her oversized zinnias
occasionally picking one and running
garden’s variety of dine and dash

we gifted them to mourners
small packets of zinnia’s seed
extolling them as one of her favorites
soil, water and sunshine
all you need to sow and grow
and watch the memories bloom

distant fading dulled blue mountains mist
cerulean eyes peek through rolling gray smatterings
rain’s aloneness petering her drops; quiet dribbles splash
outwardly radiant circular wakes renew the fresh
an already illogical current slowly skips over treasures beneath
chaotic babble chants to movements
a river’s concertos streaming in the key of cold
evergreenest grasses sprouting in spurts and clumps
bright colored wildflowers intermittently decorate her ostentatious banks
as he wades in toward the challenge; a thrown gauntlet of smooth rock
a natural outcropping base as platform
he stacks one rock atop another, atop another, atop another
in improbable, impossible, asymmetrical design
ordered without regard to size, weight, shape or color
randomly selecting whatever rocks the river offers
discerning surfaces support point and counterpoint complements
exploiting gravity with unconscious physics and body language
a wiggle this way, a lean that way, trying to find the balance within
“becoming the balance”; feeling it in your core
strong hands breathe stillness
his creation held with steady gaze and o’ so deep concentration
relaxing fingers first; then pulling his arms away to reveal
a consummation of peace
a manmade natural temple; testament to the art of patience
a magnificent mystery
a satisfying moment frozen in time
precariously awaiting eventual collapse