Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Boy Scout

Impatient for vistas and blooms,
we direct ant-like prayers 
to a trail of crumbs, and miss
the peace of cake

'Lean not' is hiking code for
stand under the water
fall, and cast your fate,
upstream, to the winding

Rock sure; thrall the cliff,
and with a rose between your teeth,

There's no rush to God's hand,
gathering angel feathers,
for the plunge.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

21 Years

Natty cherry topping the fence line,
sunset pests in a whirly-gig,
the wet garden, hopeful, and still.

Sunhat, coffee, pen;
all late comers to the Spring.
Harbinger bees buzz the blossoms
scented in promise.

If my swaying chair delirium
can pass for contentment,
I'm sober another year. 

The chip on my shoulder, shredded for mulch,
the sound of one hand slapping mosquitoes,
an anthem, yearning to learn.