stretched out between my thigh and the arm of the chair
nose buried beneath my knee
he sleeps
while I just sit and watch him
my life is so boring
the sun rises
the sun sets
and I have nothing to show for it
but this
the promise in this spring breeze
and your love

SKIPPY TOO

barely longer than my lap is wide
legs that are long enough to keep his belly off the floor
long black hair all over his body

with splashes of brown on his feet and tail
a muzzle that is black and brown
and a small brown eyebrow over each eye

I feel his body heat against my fore arm and upper thigh
as I sit stretched out on the recliner by the window
my face not six inches from his

I watch his nose twitching as he reads a book on the morning air
a book I can’t even find
he watches traffic passing by

his head turning this way and that with every new distraction
finally he becomes bored and lays his head against my shoulder to sleepand once again serenity is within my clumsy reach

SPRING STORM

the distant voice of the darkening sky clears it’s throat
a warning of the cacophony to come
and the birds pause in their singing
the smell of rain to come hangs heavy on the air
as the morning breeze carries it through the partially opened windows
a storm will come
and then the quick sound of the first falling drops
gentle at first and then more insistent
now it comes
but then quickly passes
when suddenly a rogue flash and crackle of sound
breaks the quieting wet
and then that fear that always seems to follow
what will these days be like
I have not saved for their eventuality
and now she must suffer for it
except for that I shall not mind it
and now the once more gentle sounds
signal the passing of danger
and I sit in the coziness of our dry apartment
having passed through it safely once more
in the distance a heavy freight train whines its complaint
down its lonely track to some far off destination

SHORT PANTS

every time I am surprised
by the quick smell of
newly mown grass

or the flash of the mid-morning
sun against my face in
the cool spring air

I am at once yanked back
to days when I ran without
purpose across the lawns of

freedom or climbed the
fence beside the road
to get to the trees or just lay

on my back in the fresh
green and loved
and loved

every time

APRIL 24TH

42 years have lined our lives
with happiness joy and sorrow
as we struggled against each other
to find a peaceful happy place
where we could both survive our love
together we have combined our separate ways
and joined our fears of yesterday
and tomorrow
we are the lucky ones
who have made it through the days of trial
and discontent to celebrate this marriage
as it should be celebrated
in the sweet, quiet murmurings and touchings
that mean so much
and make us a monument to overcoming
today
we love each other
and
for me
that is enough
it is more than enough

OUTSIDE ONE MORNING

a pair of grackles on the lawn becomes three
foraging they strut and bob
intention focused solely on need
and survival

while I sit focused only on the writing of
this poem in my mind
giving no immediate thought to basic needs
and I

I can't maintain anything like their level of concentration
and I can't even rise on the morning breeze
and float to the nearby treetops
frustrated I give up and go inside to try to finish

A BRIEF DIALOG WITH MY MOTHER

“you had a problem with that library when you first moved there”
“yes but I got over it”
“it’s better when you can let go of things like that’
“I know”
“things are fine here – no big news I’m afraid”
“well things aren’t much more exciting here”
“if neither of us has any news I guess we can say goodbye”
“okay you go eat breakfast”
“I will thanks for calling you’re a good son”
“and you’re a good mother I love you”
“not always as good as I should’ve been”
“oh you were good enough I love you goodbye”
“and I love you bye”
and outside my window
the birds keep up their chittering and excited chirruping
trying to drag the sun again over the edge of the morning