The promise of a gurney
is that things will be fine
unless
the sheet covers your head

One snowflake is quite fragile
and it's said that no two snowflakes are alike
yet when they join together in the millions
they can form an avalanche that changes everything
just like people can

The reality is;

That mom is gone
That I am the oldest now
That there are things to go through
That there are things to get rid of

and to sell and

that's going to

hurt.

Post deluge, slick hoppers lay suspended, savoring fresh water

There are few things more satisfying
than watching a lone mosquito
furiously trying to drill
baby, drill
circling the drill site
pushing and pushing
Do mosquitos sweat?
on the roof
of your car.

The end is coming soon
Contracts are inked
Agreements and inspections done

So after the deal is done,
and the house gone, soon  to be razed
what will be a mother's legacy?

A new home in a town nearby
A secure business on the west coast
A range of new possibilities waiting to be taken
College for a granddaughter

None of which
A mother knew possible
Before she was gone

My daughter has gone
Left yesterday
I won't see her for awhile
I miss her already
Her smile
Her wicked sense of humor
her songs

her songs

all day long her songs

about everything

walking down the stairs
making a sandwich
using a napkin
sitting on the couch
going to the store

songs
about everything

still
there is the quiet
and she'll be back in a month

yep
the quiet
oh, and Indian food
a must have
while she's away

Tiny visitor on my window
Unseen as both you come and go
But noticed just the same
Been singing since you came
How long your song will last I do not know

By a thread
Twisting
vacant shell
oh spider
gone

Late snow falls through warm air landing on young daffodils, doomed

Spring reaches full stride
blades grow greener and taller
nag of summer work

Does a creek rock know
that it has been transported
from there to a distant here
then covered with paint
stationed to guard garden mulch
lest it escape to the lawn?

Summer's lake now solid and cold
June's leaves now old and dry
As gray streams pass through frigid sky
Birds should fly for tropics
here in wind hold tight to their sticks
but birdy's trick can pay
with sun on wing that first spring day

No,
Sing
Rhymes
Please, ok?
Ah!

boat wake draws lake drops
on rounded rocks
where summers sun erases

I have reached an age
Where I should be
Responsible
Wise
Thoughtful

52

Still

I'd rather be a little irresponsible
To play and have fun
Laughing
Curious
Silly

12

So I will
So there

The man says morning ice, sleet and rain
Then the man says maybe no ice
Next he says sleet, not so much
Day will be warmer too
and no rain either
I think I'll go
to the beach
instead
bye

Two trees stood in a wood
Three saplings grew beneath

One tree killed suddenly
in a storm misunderstood

The other dies slowly
from infestation

One sapling is transplanted
to another place out of sight
from the other two

Two are left
But one has turned towards
the sun

and the other

back to the stumps behind

so they no longer see each other

It seemed a good idea at the time
the wide beam
protected by a wall on one side
another intersecting beam on the other
and composite decking above
a perfect place build a nest
to raise young
but now that the chill of spring
has given way to the warmth of summer....
many large feet beat the deck above
and slide furniture around
in a never ending thunderstorm.
Second thoughts perhaps?

"plop" and tiny rings tell of a startled frog, small pond plants at wave's whim

Her work done, mom drags her shell back to pond, the crowd giving her wide berth

I used to read to you
in voices
as an actor would
the actor
and father that I was
in front of a child
and today
I read with you
both in voices
as two actors would
the actors
the father and daughter
that we are
infront of many children
full circle

mark of a free man
is already our right
is cool
just a tool
as safe as any other tool

as common as the belt
is the most furious of all beasts
perfect for the following application
a good way to blow somebody's head off
more likely to **** you or someone you know

Winter stays day after day
still as cold
and as damp
as in days long past
warmth will come
blue skies too
Spring

No legs

A forked tongue smells

Lives in woods, deserts, and seas

They come from eggs laid by their mother

Scare me

Thoughtful idiocy diligently maintained
creates maleficent self-deception untold
leading intelligent communities astray
Whereas visionary sincerity assists
leading diligently intelligent people
towards revolution unstoppable, peaceful

I tried
I really did
For the second time
I signed up
I logged in
I looked at the syllabus
I clicked "play" on the videos
and I watched

I watched as a group of students
and the teacher they admired tremendously
began talking about poetry
talking and talking
about each word
each and every god  ****** word
"what does it mean?"
"why did she use this word?"
Et cetera
Et cetera
Blah blah blah

and although I wanted to finish the course
this time
I could feel moments of my life
moments put to better use
hugging my wife
talking to a child at college
writing poetry
or
finishing that dragon head puppet that calls from my work table

being ****** away

I don't know if it's good or not
Numbers are all about context

Yesterday I passed 20,000 reads
in just under a year here at HelloPoetry
but is that good?
I don't know
I have no context

My most popular poem has over five hundred reads
My least, twenty seven
My first was about my daughter
The one that took me over twenty thousand was too

I guess I should just be happy
but that also requires context

In the wake of an act
More evil than one could imagine prior to its being done
Who more represents evil?

The perpetrator certainly.

Or is the people who profess love
Of god
Of country
Of children

Little
Innocent
Children

Who refuse to talk
Or even threaten revolt
and more violence

Rather than discuss
possible ways
to reduce the chances of this
of Newtown
ever happening

again

Easy to like
Easy to hate
Crooked or
just enabled?

Flopped in the house on the floor alone
Sullen and saddened wondering
Are the missing near or far away from home

Nails scratch circles into the hardwood floor
Wondering whether the missing will ever return
Then in an instant, a car door, and the realization that the missing no longer are.

A stretcher by a roadside
some place hot
as long as the person on it
isn’t completely covered
there is hope

A guardian of the dune,
broken, a mere portion of it's once self
lies alone for a moment
in a rivulet left by tide's retreat
protected from wind's power
on little clumps of still damp sand
to dry in the cold sun
but soon
tide returns
and where you will lie to rest next
only the water knows

The crunch of driveway gravel
announces the arrival
of traditional
friends
for a holiday
tradition

young talons on a snowy roof mean no small beaks at the feeder below

Mommy's in a meeting
The meeting is outside
My sister is here also
She loved to run and hide
We're at a friend of mommy's house
It big and really clean
The yard looks like a golf course
Her friend looks like the queen
While mommy's talking grownup stuff
I'll run around and play
Watch me stomp in puddles and flower beds
I'd be happy here all day

I worry I may be a troll
Some kind of smart assy funny web bot
For when social "friends" get on a roll
I fire back when I probably should not
See, though I'm a fighter
and will pull an all nighter
I'm sure my points will never be got

The service dog sees
that among the children
his veteran is safe
but still, he watches

I tend
to be
a short form
kind of guy

After thirty seven years
The grief is mostly gone
yet
today
a poem by another
sparked a thought,
I am ten years older
than my father ever was

If a man offers you water
without demand of recompense
and you are thirsty
do you look at the color of his skin?
do you ask what his politics are?
how he leans on an issue?
Or do you drink
full and deep?

The wind is cold this morning
and howls.
Frustrated perhaps that there is so much to do.
To move powder
from roofs,
decks
and lawns.
Heaping it in great dunes
against my windows,
on my porch
and at my door.

Weary snow banks are pixilated by drops of rain on my window.

Fish
ate fish
eaten by fish

A river runs as rivers run
Just where it wants to go
You can build a dam
Canal or trench
But you cannot stop the flow

And if divert it you succeed
by cutting course through stone
there will remain trace
where its been
and the truth of course be known

Last night's wings
have become Buddy Rich
in my stomach.

They say "it's never easy to go home"
Which is true, sometimes.

I went home today to the hole where, until two days ago
the house where I had spent most of my life before marriage
stood.
It's gone now leaving only a hole
and as big as the hole looked
in the bright sunshine of a Connecticut Sunday in May
It is not as big, I know, as the hole in my sibling's heart
having had to say good bye to the only house
she had ever known.

A friend I've never met in person
Prolific in his work here
Work that is good
Posts a note to say he's been wrecked

Wrecked my wind, water, sand
wrecked by chance
Is he ok?
I don't know

The note said only
He'd be away
with all that he'd saved
with his tablet and guitar

All that he'd saved
Away for awhile
Now my news feed is empty of his work
Save for the note that says he'll be
Away

I am sorry for no card
No flowers
No chocolates
I was sick but that is no excuse

I do love you
I do

I am the child
running through a sunlit field playing airplane
My arms outstretched
Taking me me were the wind points me
Singing la la la
While you remain firmly on the ground
Centered and steadfast
Eyes to the future

My arms always fly me back to you
To the warmth of yours
Because
Every day
For twenty years
You've shown me
That despite my failings
My shortcomings
The hard times
Lean times

That you love me too.