Acknowledging hurt feelings can be wise,
but blaming may be stupid and unfair.
Perhaps you could switch roles, and recognize
your sister’s thought, intention, love, and care.
What would you have her do? Can you advise
behavior that will get her anywhere?
If there’s a wound in you, I won’t fling salt.
But what’s the situation with the fault?
(Ottava Rima)
Returning from the city, I detrain
in downtown Berkeley, Wednesday, 8 at night.
Emerging, no one waiting can explain
why half of Shattuck’s blocked, and every light
we see is from patrol cars angled right
and left across from us. There’s nothing dread
or obvious. I bus two blocks past Dwight,
the chop of helicopter overhead.
(Huitain)
I comprehend our planet’s sick, but here
and now appearances are all benign.
The gardens bloom, the sky is blue and clear,
the drivers and pedestrians align
in local courtesy. It’s hard to fear
catastrophe when every view is fine.
Shipped fruit and radiation rot within –
reminding me of death beneath the skin.
(Ottava Rima)
I’ve loved my brothers over 60 years.
We get along, and one I often see.
The other (middle) left us for the spheres
ex-patriot and, now retired, he
lives half a thousand miles from home base,
where even yet our mother carries on.
We text or talk, but seldom can embrace
the one of us we view as long withdrawn.
He never was emotive – he just shrugged
and turned away, while I was known to rage.
The youngest aimed to make us glad, and hugged
his way through living. Now we’re of an age,
the first grows wise, the third’s all happy clangor,
but middle’s stiff and narrow-spined, with anger.
Impatient even now, past 95,
she seeks a speedy fix for any ill.
She’s been this way as long as I’m alive –
task-oriented with a stubborn will.
Each fall she takes she’ll bruise and bleed, but still
she lives and mends in months, to our surprise.
She’s slowing slowly on her roll downhill
but healing – even kidneys and (now) eyes.
(Huitain)
I had a spare hour last Friday at 2.
I stretched out full-length on the floor.
I didn’t have errands or labor to do,
and outside the rain fell some more.
The fire glowed orange – its heat was a treat –
it’s spring but the sun wasn’t there.
I took 60 minutes, and peace was complete.
My spirit felt lighter than air.
To feel my best, I guess I can’t forego.
I thought to skip a day, to try to rest,
but less than half an hour I’ll bestow,
to feel my best.
I overdid last night, to fete a guest –
a lot of wine, some sugar, pasta dough:
a festival a challenge to digest.
And it was good, but waking I was slow –
a little headachy, I can attest.
I mimicked every posture on the show,
to feel my best.
(Roundel)
One animal is ugly but benign.
The other is unwelcome beauty here.
Today I watched them nearly meet, and veer.
The house cat has a graceful soft design.
The young marsupial is slow and drear.
One animal is ugly but benign.
The other is unwelcome beauty here.
The cat kills birds – its shit and puke malign –
but possum feeds on ticks. The yard is clear
of possum scat – the cat should disappear.
One animal is ugly but benign.
The other is unwelcome beauty here.
Today I watched them nearly meet, and veer.
(English Madrigal)
They made the Muni seats too deep or high.
I see a lot of passengers whose heels
don’t reach the floor when sitting back. Now why
did some committee choose to so construct?
Although the rides are short, most riders I
examine are of shorter stature too.
This dangle isn’t good for knee or thigh.
The elderly will ache from ride ordeals.
A seated he-man seems a little guy.
(Magic 9)
I had a bout of clarity last week,
when everyone I love was liking me.
I knew it couldn’t last, and didn’t seek
extension – I just savored feeling free.
Alive to how life changes, constantly
inconstant, I espied approaching murk.
I can’t ignore what’s crazing separately
between us. That was nice. Now back to work.
(Huitain)
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