Category Archives: Poetry

Anointment

I woke to feel decrepit in two joints.My left knee griped, and something in my wrist(the left as well) objected when it pointsup on the ulnar side. I made a fistand rested some, and as the day anointsme, as I … Continue reading →

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Cooking

Full body yoga was this morning’s choice –a twenty-seven minute stretch and move.With almost empty mind, I heard a voicethat recommended cooking to improvethe options for my dinners. I rejoicetoday in solitude, as cool as you’veimagined me, as busy as … Continue reading →

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Told You So

It made no sense to me, the way they claimedit either was a lab leak or the sitewhere animals for food were vended, named“wet market” in reporter lingo. Rightas life, I said it could be both. For mightan error in … Continue reading →

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Moving On

The laurel leaves are lovely, but it’s bestto leave them on the branches or the ground.They aren’t soft enough to offer restwhile yet you live. In truth, the wise have found,while honoring the past, it’s no behest.Without more innovation, we’ll … Continue reading →

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Fly Free

I hate it when a fly comes in my room.Yet I don’t want to murk my view with screens.I took to closing doors to bar the zoom,but August heat and dead air’s what that means.A stranger commented – no fly … Continue reading →

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Obviation

Remembering how much my brother’s feetrepelled me, as I watch the grandkids spurna sibling’s trespass on their space – discretein limits – it’s not difficult to turnto evolution’s rule. We’d risk effetemutation if we interbred. We learnwith moody pheromones to … Continue reading →

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Carrots

I watched a show about the ultra-richengaged in and investing big to finda longer life. And then I wondered whichrewards inspired such, and for what kindthey hungered? Why and what would scratch the itch?Of their exploits no trophies come to … Continue reading →

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The Pace of Age

The movement of the hour hand defiesmammalian observation, just the sameas floral growth is hidden from our eyes.For we evolved to play the hunting game,reactive to attack but not too wiseabout slow changes. That’s how aging cameon me – too … Continue reading →

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Where the Prose Ends

I’m paging through this blog a year a dayto find the date I finished posting prose.I aim to lose the papers that displayold poetry cloud-clustered, for I choseto edit most and repost anyway.My strategy is to recycle thoseoriginals. But I’m … Continue reading →

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The Sitting Tree

I call the office, weekdays, 4 pm.And when I’m in the city at that timeI sometimes stop, cough up commuting phlegm,and perch here where the kids are wont to climb.I adult-talk before I play with them.Today I tag this sitting … Continue reading →

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