Continuing to disagree with what
they choose to do in landscaping out front
(I neither view nor use that garden, but
I wish they had more taste), their latest stunt
includes more agapanthus, to be blunt,
than any drought-resistant quadrant needs.
And even so, they puddled one, I grunt,
where gutter runoff drowns out even weeds.
(Huitain)
Alive now 16 years in widowhood,
and doing better than we thought she would
(with sedentary habits, smoking, stress,
we’ve been astounded at her heartiness,
and some opine she’s too mean for the dark –
she’ll send the Reaper packing, with a bark),
I see her start to lose herself of late.
Her talk’s compressed, her recollection’s pale.
Unwilling to attempt to cogitate,
her personality begins to fail.
She may endure, my care will carry on,
but what was a relationship, is gone.
The station seemed unclean, as did the train
I boarded Saturday a week ago.
The weather was inclement – chilly rain.
The passengers were sodden, rags on show
and bags abundant. Homeless they appeared,
exhausted and not loud at 10 a.m.
Nobody bothered me or acted weird.
I co-existed peacefully with them.
Remarkable occurred 10 minutes in.
A guy paused in the space between the cars.
I watched him stop, turn left, and then begin
to urinate. That’s food for my memoirs,
I thought, and snapped a pic, and then felt grief:
How limited his options for relief…
You must’ve done it – blown up a balloon,
and as you let the air whoosh out again,
you stretch to squeeze the opening, and soon
a shrieking scream escapes – an awful din.
Some laugh and others wincing then begin
to block their ears. I want you to observe
I didn’t show your kid that trick. The sin
you call impulsiveness, I don’t deserve.
(Huitain)
“It ends so often badly,” was the phrase.
I heard it recently, or maybe read
the syllables, but ever since it plays
recurrently, a worm inside my head,
a view I don’t dispute. In truth I dread
a bad decline. I plan to exercise
as many and as much before I’m dead,
to try to engineer a good demise.
(Huitain)
I don’t mind eye exams, but I’d avoid
dilating drops forever if I could.
By consequential glare I am annoyed,
and though I know the doctor needs a good
look in the orb – because the likelihood
of problem is increased, by age conveyed –
for hours I won’t read the way I should.
But hey, it’s just one day, forestalling fade.
(Huitain)
My facialist suggested that I try
a moisturizing sunblock with some tint.
It seemed a good idea; I chose to buy
a tube. Her tip was more than just a hint –
“Be sure to shake it well each time.” So I
had details, which I’m sure were in fine print.
You bought and didn’t love a tube like mine –
that’s probably because you shopped online.
(Ottava Rima)
I didn’t have a rigid plan today –
some morning exercise, depart by 3,
and spend a little time at books and play
with almost-6 and -2 for company.
Then came the call the older’s sick. He’ll stay
at home so I’ll come early, act as nurse
and friend. This puts small errands on delay
and gives me thoughts to subject to this verse.
Again the ants invade. It’s no surprise.
Survival instincts have to be obeyed.
Outside is cold and wet. Before my eyes,
again the ants invade.
Like moving coffee grounds, the bugs parade
within my kitchen sink. So I arise
to drown and crush and vacuum what’s displayed.
I’m fortunate they’re such a tiny size.
But I can’t find the entrance for the raid.
It isn’t food – they’re dashing ceiling-wide.
Again the ants invade.
(Roundel)
A garden cottage will have critter sound
of course – the insect buzz, the song of birds,
the punch of bodies on the roof, that pound
of mammal paws. Conveying such in words
I say the cats are silent as on ground,
and squirrels are surprising-loud, like herds
of larger creatures, but the biggest thump
is raccoon-made, so bass it makes me jump.
(Huitain)
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