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)
Confronted with enigma of the sort
a person evidences acting weird,
I’m likely to create my own report:
a fiction that implies how things appeared.
What motivation or pathology
propels a character to acts deserved?
Which facets of the personality
would naturally produce the scenes observed?
If she-who-hides-her-body was abused
so hard and early she forgets her past,
and harbors he-who-ought-to-be-accused,
and fills her home with clutter, soiled, vast,
perhaps the one who listens and inspects
is right to place the daughters with the ex.
Her folks divorced when she was 6 years old.
Her father grew disordered in his mind.
She sensed the edginess, but never told
her mother how the evenings misaligned.
Two score of years were fated to unfold
before she trod that neighborhood, to find
a memory of feeling danger foam
instead of comfort, in her father’s home.
(Ottava Rima)
Four years ago my bathroom was remade,
creating space for bathtub, better sink,
retaining skylight, fitting higher grade
of tile. My designer had to think
creatively; the workers knew their trade.
I use the sink to rinse but not to drink,
shampoo or launder. I behave with care –
but time amounts – I clogged it with my hair.
(Ottava Rima)
I sometimes wonder how it would have been
if I had had a mother like I am,
if needs had been expressed and met, begin-
ning early, never hearing “Can it! Scram.”
And now I watch my adult son, and know
his father was a negligent abuser.
But he’s paternal-excellent, although
that post-divorce male model was a loser.
And maybe it’s the luck of childhood
to have a single parent competent.
Of course a mated couple would be best,
but one may be sufficient, able, good.
Of all my teachers, two were excellent.
Expecting more may be a vain request.
I’ve ridden rails for over 50 years,
and often disapproved of how they spend
their funds, complain of loss, and cringe at fears
of deficit while eating each stipend.
But now with age and Covid, it appears
the stress is real, while contractors extend
enhancements pre-approved, the way they do.
My exit yesterday was blue on blue.
(Ottava Rima)
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