I’d like to launder linens, and the clothes
I’ve used this busy week. I know the yard
is wanting water, too. From neck to toes
I will immerse myself, and though on guard
because of drought, I haven’t yet been barred
from turning on my dishwasher. Four hours
I’ll consume today, for me and flowers.
(Rhyme Royal)
I booked an airplane trip. In 40 days
I’ll fly to visit family I love.
For 18 months we’ve only had displays
on FaceTime, but I needed quite a shove
to pick the flight. We’re opening all ways
right now. So in a month I’ll rise above
home base. I used the credits from last year
to fly first-class and modulate my fear.
(Ottava Rima)
One fact about the virus lockdown was
most days resembled those that came before.
We stayed apart, and masked, and washed, because
we didn’t have vaccine or ready cure.
I FaceTimed many bedtime tales for sure;
I waited till the “Ready?” text appeared.
But now they’re off a week, and I detour –
five evenings free will feel a little weird.
(Huitain)
I never figured out the overhead
athletic shoes that hung on power wires.
Some claimed they were a sign drug buyers read,
or indicated where a gang retires.
But no one knows. And now I note instead
a newer puzzle. Lately what inspires
laughs? At least two driveways here that sport
parked vehicles impossibly athwart.
(Ottava Rima)
You’re egotistical to take offense.
Assuming disrespect does not make sense.
Reacting to a statement that’s untrue,
and doesn’t really have to do with you,
just demonstrates your thinking’s somewhat dense.
You keep describing sexist incidents,
but disregard your own incompetence.
You couldn’t do that job, and we all knew.
You’re egotistical.
Stop blowing your own horn. Forego intense
outrage and indignation’s hot expense.
It’s time to put assumptions in review,
locate the good, let humble come, and do
the work you say we ought to all commence.
You’re egotistical.
(Rondeau)
Abrupt concussion
startles me at the keyboard:
eucalyptus fall.
On my couch
with good wine
beneath my fan
near open doors
I see you, but I hope you’ll be okay
about it. In the past I’ve edged away
from individuals-in-gratitude,
who figured my attention would include
a friendship growing closer every day.
I know you’re manifold, for you display
as much variety as this bouquet.
Appreciating you is nothing crude –
I see you.
Sure we can visit, but I will not stray
to black-and-white from all these tones of gray.
I need to learn to guard my solitude
without offending you, with nothing rude.
I’m not too old to figure how to say –
I see you.
(Rondeau)
It’s near 500 days since I was shorn,
and over 50 years since I outgrew
attempts to have long hair. I wasn’t born
with frizzy curls – they came along with new
hormones, with dieting and pimples too.
I let it grow in quarantine and whim –
it may be time to book at least a trim.
(Rhyme Royal)
Six days ago it sprinkled overnight.
I woke at 2 a.m. to gentle rain
more audible than drizzle. With delight
I toured my house and savored the refrain
of drops on skylight glass. I sought it out
in bath and kitchen, manna for my brain,
and then returned to sleep and dire drought.
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