In further evidence of climate change,
the squirrels are resorting to green plums
as dietary mainstay. It seems strange
to watch them hunt the prunus; hungry bums,
they must be famished – fruit once scorned becomes
their diet. See them finish every bit –
who used to litter pulp drops only pit.
(Rhyme Royal)
Our mom gave us pistachios
that couldn’t be outclassed.
I meant to make them pose for prose
but ate them all too fast.
It doesn’t take book knowledge to opine
repeated movement causes wear at least.
Three score and ten convey a sad decline –
I know some flexibility’s deceased,
and every month my skin becomes more creased.
I’m lucky old. I won’t complain or mourn
some inner works now seeming overworn.
(Rhyme Royal)
Once upon a time I misbehaved.
I hurt no one but I betrayed a trust.
My bad went undiscovered – no one raved
or even scowled – there was not a bust
or whimper – every consequence was waived.
But rue began to eat my gut like rust.
Imagining how terrible I’d feel
uncovered, I reformed without reveal.
(Ottava Rima)
The smallest state’s equivalent to us –
two Senators are what we each elect.
So why is there an argument or fuss
preserving filibuster? We all know
the Senate’s anti-democratic, plus
Republicans are weak and seek to cheat.
So politicians think they should discuss
a moribund tradition none select.
The GOP is whining like a wuss.
(Magic 9)
I heard the sprinklers fire while in bed.
I rolled supine and opened morning eyes
to evidence of rain above my head –
the spattered glass of skylights a surprise.
Two hundred miles east there’s heat instead,
and low humidity, and blood-red skies.
We’re California big and so diverse,
no matter what there’s always somewhere worse.
(Ottava Rima)
The place across the yard sold recently.
Protective parents purchased it to house
their kid who seeks a Cal advanced degree.
And based on what I see, these folks espouse
all paths to caution, internet-advised
and disconnected from reality,
installing tools unneeded – specialized
for suburbs and enhanced security.
Although nobody lives there yet, the scene
that greeted me this morning, through green limbs,
was every window aproned with a screen
of darksome mesh inside white vinyl trim.
I sigh. The insects here are not severe.
If I were they I’d leave the windows clear.
Surprised myself this morning with a ride
I thought I lacked the stamina to do.
With hesitant consent I modified
my calendar, from nothing to a few.
Deciding to begin, to soldier through
two-thirds of my routine or maybe less,
successive pedaling conveyed ten new
degrees of latent vim, and happiness.
(Huitain)
Five lovely days with 5 I like a lot,
and then an afternoon amid 4 more,
all finished with a Sunday brunch we got
where Mom’s recovering – back on her floor
but slower, with a walker – not a chore
but still a stressor. Love is work and fun.
Full 7 social days elapsed before
I took today, away from everyone.
(Huitain)
My problem with a lot of books these days,
at least the ones the Kindle hawks to me,
has less to do with failure to amaze
than the extent of the banality.
Not only do I know too frequently
the words I’ll see before I turn the page,
but I abhor this growing tendency
to grab a verb like “grab” without a gauge.
(Huitain)
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