I didn’t think the tree at all diseased.
It reared among four others on the field.
But walking by last week, my sight was seized
by several guys with ropes that they unreeled,
supporting one so high his harness teased
the sky, his shape by height almost concealed.
I wondered what the reasoning could be
that prompted governors to kill that tree.
It may be confidence that powers me
to venture on a course with diligence.
It’s other than will power, certainly;
it may be confidence.
It doesn’t hurt to have experience
with earlier campaigns, but presently
I think success comes mostly from a sense
that self deserves an opportunity
unearned by stricture or intelligence
to work toward where the will wants, steadfastly.
It may be confidence.
Perhaps it’s chance – no sooner did I plug
the gadget in my kitchen outlet than
all signs of critters stopped, without a drug
or any hunting/trapping/moving plan.
The scritching in the night and morning span
cut off. Coincidence, or this device?
No pest control need send me out some man.
My place is quiet now, and this is nice.
Some creature must have targeted my wrist.
I noticed nearly 14 days ago
a quarter-size of redness. Something kissed
that didn’t feel mosquito-ish. I know
it might have been a spider. They insist
on thriving here this time of year. The show
of red diminishes with every day.
Immune response is slow but has its way.
In dream I acted an entitled bitch.
In fact I don’t veer very much that way,
but am I wholly lacking a trait which
I criticize in some and might display
a microbit at times? It’s time to switch –
I rose with aim and attitude today
to let my kinder thoughts enhance my show.
I hope to find a softer way to go.
I have some friends on waiting lists to move
to units built for over-55.
I understand convenience and approve
of choice but think, as long as I’m alive,
I’ll opt to live among diversity
in all respects, but most of all in years.
The young around keep stimulating me;
with start of school their vibrancy appears.
They gather at the bus stop full of talk.
They fill the streets like pilgrims when they walk
in clustered groups, backpacked and seldom cold,
an academic army, blue & gold
and eager/apprehensive in my eyes:
My inconvenient neighbors, foolish, wise.
My Kindle’s fully charged, but not with me.
Now I must bus and train and bus without.
I have a phone app but it’s hard to see.
I feel too well to voice complaints about
this lack. It gives me opportunity
to veer from habit, tumbled into doubt.
It prospers creativity, perforce,
to periodically be knocked off course.
The noise above my ceiling bothers me.
I’m used to seeing animals outside;
I like the avian activity,
the skunks are cute, opossums I abide.
The squirrel vandals and the racoon shit
I tolerate – this yard I think’s as much
their home as mine, and they’re appropriate
for garden health. I welcome them as such.
But noise at dawn and sunset over me,
suggesting infiltration through my roof,
unsettles and negates serenity.
I search for ways to make home critter-proof.
Avoiding setting traps, I heed advice,
and hope this sound-repellant will suffice.
The ℞ for today is laying low –
my hips are tight; my shoulders now complain.
My stamina for walking says to slow
it down, and here’s a Thursday to refrain
from any extra effort. I’ll regain
my vigor soon – right now I’ll give me time.
My bath and meditation are the main
events I’ll undertake, besides this rhyme.
The book was thick. I had to flick through inches till I found
what I recall as best of all. Pronouncing every sound,
I read again the lines from when I felt my interest heat
(and ever since, my fingerprints tattoo to meter’s beat).
Some critics scoffed asserting it was doggerel or worse.
The writer countered, okay it’s not poetry but verse.
The first were snobs who did bad jobs, the latter too effacing.
There’s nothing daft about fine craft with good motif and pacing.
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