Category Archives: Poetry

Humidity

They say it doesn’t flourish in humidity. We’re blessed with damp air.

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Say Which?

The bug is new, and creatures who should lead are aiming, if they have an aim, to block emerging facts from notice. They impede statistics, bury data. It would shock us but our tolerance to stupid, bad and venal is … Continue reading →

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Benign Neglect

My garden attitude’s benign neglect; I never went for soil on my hands or stooping. I’m so old my neck is wrecked from telephones and tension – I don’t need to stress my knees and back as I’d expect if … Continue reading →

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Bad Spit

The root canal and implant surgery, my dental treatments during quarantine, one necessary, one appropriate, are why I ventured from the sanity of home alone and comfortable hygiene (the pain and symptoms weren’t counterfeit). A hair salon I’d fain be … Continue reading →

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My Hermitage

My hermitage was built last century – three score and sixteen years ago (they say, who keep a file on the property). Constructed as a guest house then, today the Codes would not permit my place to be so on-the-edge … Continue reading →

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The Keyhole

He has a walk-through bedroom, in between his parents’ and the kitchen’s narrow end. (Their flat is old – Victorian or Queen Anne modified to serve the housing trend). The woodwork is original – the doors have panels, knobs and … Continue reading →

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PseudoStops

I seldom see the good in boundaries; I tend to play at work and work at play. I set a goal, approach it by degrees, but when it’s reached it doesn’t go away. Some friends I love and honor lack … Continue reading →

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Generating

I feel I owe the kids apology: we meant to change the world in ‘68. Somehow my cohort lost its energy; we settled in for goods instead of great. Apparently the time was wrong for us. We marched and rioted, … Continue reading →

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Mask Etiquette

I know the weakest link defines the chain, in terms of strength (and what’s of more import than hold if chains are judged?) The links will strain when pull’s applied, until the poor falls short. Just so, as we now … Continue reading →

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Resealed

Too humid to dry the redwood deck I resealed: our normal July.

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