Sabbatical

They set their phones down once a week of late –
from Friday night through Saturday forego
the tiny screen, the tinny tune – relate
to three or more dimensions, like a throw-
back (ages range from 12 to 48).
I’m visiting, and now they want to know
will I adopt their little sabbath stay?
I’m old. There’s nothing easier, I say.

(Ottava Rima)

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Stern

Don’t stern-talk me, his sister said.
That didn’t work from Dad.
Attempts to shush me bend my head
and only make me mad.
You might try listening instead
(I really wish you had).
That pose supposed to ferry dread
looks insecure and sad.

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Effective Recipe

“Relax” and “Lighten up” do not produce
results except exasperating stress.
And “shush” outside the library will loose
in most resentment and in some a mess
of anger they are driven to express.
If calm or quiet are the trends desired,
such voicing may seem passive but aggress.
Example is the recipe required.

(Huitain)

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Leaning In

We sat upon the couch and talked a bit.
He wasn’t feeling well in back or head.
Fatigue besieged (as is appropriate,
with two young kids to wrest him from his bed).
Attending to the way he sat and said,
respecting his full plate and steady stress,
I raised my hand and cupped his cheek, instead
of speaking. He leaned in to my caress.

(Huitain)

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Limp Reminder

Misstepping as I exited my yard,
I skewed my foot and let its outer side
impact the ground. My landing wasn’t hard –
I tried to walk it off and not abide
an injury – but something must have pried
apart, a little metatarsal thing.
My walk is off. Now pain I guess will guide.
I meant to glide but I’ve a damaged wing.

(Huitain)

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Laggard

Regardless of the local temperature,
no matter what the calendar declares,
I’ve learned we’re fully into Spring, for sure,
when this tree buds to leaf. Its twiggy hairs
don’t feather while each other tree prepares
to start to eat the sunshine, air, and dirt.
On College close to Alcatraz it flares,
and every year I watch its laggard spurt.

(Huitain)

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First Aid

Returning home I wouldn’t raise the shade,
although it wasn’t hot at ten past noon.
Awake at five, I did odd jobs and played
with kids for hours. Then I waited for
three forms of transportation, that conveyed
me home amid track closures and the crowds
of college graduation (gowns arrayed
but caps concealed). I couldn’t get home soon
enough. It’s my emotional first-aid.

(Magic 9)

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Distraction

Forgetting what you left the room to do
occurs at every age, but frequency
increases – every senior knows that’s true –
and doesn’t seem as funny recently.
Confusing hand and mind, so that you threw
the coffee grounds away that ought to be
arrayed beneath the roses? Laugh a bit.
Distraction’s not dementia. You’re still fit.

(Ottava Rima)

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KCA to NYC

Though born and raised in Berkeley, she’s too much
for Westerners to tolerate with ease.
She fills a room and ambles fast. She’s such
a driven worker, friends and enemies
retreat from competition. Expertise
is what she likes, employing pull and torque
she had from birth and at her mother’s knees.
That’s why she felt so natural in New York.

(Huitain)

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Roadside Rhododendra

Asleep all Winter,
they Spring to beauty, and bees
brew toxic honey.

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