Requiem for a Polecat

For 14 years I’ve lived in this back yard.
Accustomed to its fauna and inured
to critter evidence, still this is hard.
It’s sadder than a headless hummingbird,
and more upsetting than a ‘possum, dead
upon the deck and in the rain.
At 9 a.m. I chanced to turn my head,
and now a dying skunk has filled my brain.

Peripheral the vision was at first.
I noted at my left the black-and-white.
His ribcage moved but I assumed the worst,
and looking closer then, I got the sight
of final breath, his eye about to dim.
I said goodbye and now I’m mourning him.

Posted in Critters, Home, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Harbinger

September 6 is
Summer still. Against my face
a breeze recalls Fall.

Posted in Home, Poetry, Weather | Tagged | Leave a comment

It’s a Wonderful Nation

I never dreamed I’d have a thought like this.
The question never rose until this week.
A proud American, how did I miss
the cowardice, the rampant lies? We speak
of values, heroism, how to live,
but all we see’s venality and more.
I wonder as I’m trying to forgive,
without the Revolutionary War,
how would the present be? How well the earth,
if our estates had not been given birth?

Posted in Civics, Philosophy, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Hole in the Wall

This little cottage suits my need for space,
and privacy and pleasure for each sense.
I saw, I bought, I moved into the place,
and though I spent a little for some fence,
I haven’t added screens. When heat’s intense
I open doors – my insect issue’s small –
unscreened I get a hole in one big wall.

(Rhyme Royal)

Posted in Home, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Marriage PR

I’m sure you’ve known some couples like his folks –
long-married, incompatible, and old,
no longer sharing attitudes or jokes,
their interactions silent, often cold.
The husband seems an easy-going guy.
The wife appears judgmental, brusque, or sad.
You wonder they’re together – how and why
does he put up with her and not go mad?

I wondered too, until I posed the thought
problem – how would my present be, if I
had stuck it out? What would those years have brought?
I gave the question time, and said “Oh my,”
for what I saw was me embittered so,
outsiders questioned why he didn’t go.

Posted in Family, Love, Personality, Poetry | Tagged | 3 Comments

Lord of the Flies

I didn’t like the book. I disagreed
with where it moved and what that pathway meant.
I never would have chosen it to read,
but that’s how then the school assignments went.
That’s roughly when my passion stirred to mark
the character of citizens around.
I aimed to catch our symptoms, light and dark,
and childish behavior’s what I found.

Exuberant and fanciful we are,
attracted to rambunctiousness and play.
We innovate, make movies, plunder far,
and shouldn’t run with scissors, night or day.
Of late we’re seeing how the future skids,
when super power’s wielded by the kids.

Posted in Civics, Philosophy, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Quad Pad

Quad-ruled has been my paper choice for years –
canary yellow if available.
The quarter inch of grid-marking endears
it to my eye and renders flexible
the layout of a flowchart or a list.
It’s doodle-useful and invites my pen,
but lately marketing has made a twist –
I’m having trouble finding them again.

Our recent purchase only has the grid
upon the recto side. The back is blank.
Was this mistake or thrift? Does price forbid
the ink on verso – is this goof or prank?
I always used the front and back, you see.
These newer pages tend to stymie me.

Posted in Poetry, Writing | Tagged | Leave a comment

One More Day

If I had only one more day to live
with memory and personality
intact, I’m certain I would want to give
attention to whatever I can see,
or sense with any other faculty.
I’d focus and take every moment in.
I think I’ll set that exercise for me:
pretending death may let more life begin.

(Huitain)

Posted in Aging, Personality, Philosophy, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

My Old Gal

There was an old gal from back East
who lusted to fix me, at least.
She longed to redo
all my teeth and hairdo:
my mother – critique-loving beast.

Posted in Family, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Hiding in Plain Sight

Eleven years ago, when I began,
I fretted it would take up too much time
responding to each comment from a fan
(I thought that ere I ever published rhyme).
My daughter laughed – she knew how thin the scan,
reminding me a poem won’t earn a dime,
advising me to post without concern.
There’s freedom in obscurity, I’d learn.

(Ottava Rima)

Posted in Poetry, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment