I like a jigsaw puzzle, but my place
is less than half a thousand of square feet.
I only have one table in the space,
and puzzle pieces cover its complete
rectangle surface in the present case
(1,000-piece is twice what would be meet).
But it’s a loving gift, well-cut and -inked.
I’ll have to concentrate and get it linked.
(Ottava Rima)
My thoughts of yesterday, about last year,
I shared with whom I call my closest friend.
For half a century, she’s been the peer
I talk to most. And sometimes we contend,
but mostly we agree and don’t offend.
She countered she’s so much in here and now,
she never harkens back, as if that trend
were harmful. Then she took a little bow.
(Huitain)
Assessing Twenty Twenty Two today,
I think it was a better year for me
than several recently. I have to say –
I got along with everyone I love;
the fire season spared us smoke; dismay
about our politics was almost low;
my health improved (though Covid had its way).
Anticipating Twenty Twenty Three
I’m mystified, and yet I feel okay.
(Magic 9)
My oldest friend complained the other day
her back is sore. She’s feeling like a wretch.
She moaned a lot and then went on to say
she’ll tend to it next week. “Don’t be a kvetch,”
I countered. “There’s no reason to delay.
Get on your rug right now and start to stretch.”
(She later thanked me nicely more than twice,
for words too obvious to be advice.)
(Ottava Rima)
Subliming from a solid to a gas,
your arrow’s on an arc to miss my heart.
It’s not that I’d invite a sexy pass,
but if our discourse is to have a start,
it’s well you’ve moved from arrogant and crass,
though nephew-like respect should have no part.
Old fellow, my affection might be won
if we could talk and flirt, and have some fun.
(Ottava Rima)
I kind of like it when I’m incorrect.
That path bisects a place where I can learn.
Initially, we neither could connect
but recently, when I had to return
to meet you as a client, I at first
disdained your arrogance just as before,
abhorred your attitude, thought you were cursed
like 20 years ago – affected sure.
By meeting number two I’d shown my work,
and you were then respectful, grateful too.
You met my eyes and acted less a jerk.
I then inclined to closer look at you.
You’re unattractive, but at meeting three,
you started being interesting to me.
I know I have a herniated disk.
My doctor told me 16 years ago.
He read the MRI and said I risk
a rupture if I fail to care just so.
And 50 years of phoning made a wreck
of infrastructure in my upper spine.
I’ve chronic issues with my aging neck,
and I’ve assumed the pain to bear was mine.
But then I started daily homely flex.
I took up morning yoga on my rug.
It humbled me at first, in some respects,
but I kept on, and now it’s like a drug
that seems to have eliminated aches
I formerly considered age’s stakes.
Sometimes the bird shit is hard to ignore –
splats of bright white on the deck.
Waking this morning I paused at the door,
arrested by more than a speck.
A crow had released a catharsis before
I arose, but not long did it wreck
my vista. I doused it by watering can,
and now it’s reduced to a milky off-tan.
The final jobs were finished yesterday,
resurfacing the bulk in front of me.
They hung the entry lights and the display
of house address and mostly, finally,
the box where mail is put for them and me.
Of course they chose all wrong: house numbers hard
to read; the box too high; lights stupidly
installed. But bad choice means their glare is barred.
(Huitain)
On Tuesday morning she was so concerned
about a foster kid who’s 38,
she planned to see his doctor with him, yearned
to question protocols and advocate
for tests and facts – whatever could be learned.
By Thursday when he said he might be late,
her worry’d ebbed from catapult to shove.
Disquiet morphed to tough parental love.
(Ottava Rima)
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