I am at Peace

if you need voices to assure you
that is cool as brown sugar & okay
but I will dance my twirls myself
and you can do what you do
I always have bunches more to say
but I'll set that on some high shelf
out of reach until we, she, or he needs it
meantime I will listen to doves coo
and the whistle of the morning pot
let me know what I forgot . . .

Crows and Ken

There are many ancient rhymes of words
known now only to crows and minion birds
that spend their time mocking the world.

Post your ear when they gather in your yard.
and hear noise lacking any semblance to the bard!
Their mocking memes grow in noisy swirls.

Yes, You Were Once my Only Love

You will not forget me
do not believe that you will
I don't mean just the good times
old bar ditches filled with wild celery
before you said good-bye
lost months and years stacked in memory
that find you wading in shallow water
sometimes thru mud and sticky sand
lots of drying tears without laughter
circling your todays and afterwards

I was never moving on, but winging it
from your smiles and silly good-byes
an albatross in wind alone, singing it
through the emptiest of cloudy skies
looking back over shoulder and soul
always earlier, waiting for you was a goal

I live in calming, living waters most days
pleased to live my life post-chaise
love does not occur to me at all
my love has always dripped from the page
of a life that I would never re-live
without all the angst and honesty

Maybe I am no albatross, just a proud dove
I am settled in with my true love . . .

Lao Tzu, Where are You?

I do not wish to needlessly awake you!
Boyang, how goes it with you and truth?
How are our friends in Chu Jen, Chu?

I have missed your reported visits
but watch nightly for falling stars . . .

Boo . . . Happy Halloween!

I wrestle with the machinations of life
my salary does not support other wrestles
I have countless grand and great-grandchildren
(only countless because I'm not a mathematician)
but I can add and subtract just
to know that they are dynamic bits of stuff
aiming to wrestle (stars?) beyond my snuff
but I never wrestle with my heart (my life).
I am on easy street
and know how to sweep
once the broom returns
after a bout with Halloween . . .
Enjoy pumpkin day
don't knock, I am away . . .

Sometimes I Cirlcle

Sometimes I circle in the wind, a dove seeking safe ground;
sometimes I circle above the breeze, a barn owl on the prowl.
My world is not always the world I sought, woke to, planned,
but a circus of expectations, full of lonely monkey sounds:
guttural screeches, tree-top screams, always wary of elfin growls:
an end to practiced sprints, ups, downs and joys of this world:
it is an adventure of mornings preparing for some final stand.