Posts for June 27, 2026 (page 6)

Dear Diary, 
If we were talking as if there was a table between us,
linen-dressed for dinner at a diner opened only for cocktail hour…
opened at an odd time, let’s say the fourth Saturday of
an odd year, during the months of …
Hampton whites…
skewered chicken meatballs with fat mozzarella…a reduced balsamic…
an endless supply of quartered citrus…this is how
I would ask you…to hand me…a breath mint…
and check my teeth for spinach:

To heal from this life…
water for consumption,
strong bones,
wishes, beggars, and a horse wanting a ride
freshly minted sarcasm, tied to aged parchment rolled by
tidal waves of merriment and wisteria blossoms

To concede with grace…
prepare your courage
for 
dreams deferred and what may come
applaud your opponent’s victory lap
choose whether you have the right to command the
motivation, dedication, inspiration required to 
lace up a pair of your favorite sneakers and
show the pavement your stride
once a decent greenspace is found.
That’s all. 
Turning parks into playstations. 
Nothin’ to it. 

To honor wisdom from a blind man…
cherish the fruit he offers to share,
reserve its manna for barren times
do not nail down a roof until foundation supports frame, and will
survive the harshest season with or
without the seasonally decorated
porch duck, grapevine tree, or door wreath…
Everyone needs to eat. 

Hope you are left nostalgic and laughing the next time you read this poem.
Your Friend, 
Me

“What suggestions of imperturbability and being, as against the human trait of mere seeming….It is, yet says nothing.”  –Walt Whitman, from “The Lesson of the Tree,” Specimen Days

That I could be as satisfied by this soaking rain
as the earth– absorbing until overflowing in rills
or as a tree– whose roots drink deep and long,
        whose branches bend through gusts
        or, breaking, slowly grow callus and gnarl,
        and though a back scratches against its bark
        or arms wrap around its trunk,
        it remains impassive to distraction,
        requiring only rain
        and earth,
        sun and air,
        with centuries
        to live.

and all of a sudden, I am water rushing, gnawing down billions of years of rock, sediment by sediment, no words, no need for words, nobody to answer to when my company is only antelope, swathes of green and dust, the mountains, no questions, just acceptance of my low crisp roar filtering through valleys, maybe someday spilling out to pool somewhere, maybe under an alcove, circling, settling, to grow warm under the red sun, but that is a ways from here, and how could a force of nature ever feel alone?

I ponder wonder:
tiny, marbled “four-eyed” frogs
thrive in the Andes 
where they freeze every night, 
unthaw as the sun rises.  

~a tanka

Rough-coated and shaggy
Abandoned, faded, and buried
Beneath vines and leaves
Lingering behind an ill-fitting door

People take recycling
Intended for the county
From the neighbor’s bins  

Head and hands
Dive deep down inside
Searching for that 5 to10 cent payout  

Shoulder pole braced ‘cross back
Bags on either end
Like a Chinese coolie  

Man or woman
Pulling their cart down the street
Overloaded, in early morning hours

Massive black, white plastic bags
Fulfills their booty
Headed to the recycling center  

Waking to morning tea
That rough scraping sound
Wheels on asphalt, dragging weight

i’d like to think the whole human family is bathed in love
as we walk about reading the language of bright eyebeams
covered with a fine pure golden dust  

no one a stranger, we write a letter to a dear friend
birthing gentle thoughts beginning middle & end
with every word and cursive swirl our heart shared ~ no secrets

in true trusted friendship we can talk for hours
graceful sincere communication drawn from deep experiences
some topics even a surprise to one we’ve known for years  

dearly delicious the open encounter of two in uncensored thought & feeling
a precious gift of rejoining ~ friendship brings such cheerful contentment
the moment we surrender soul to soul a radiance emerges heart to heart

be assured dear friend, no distance nor time can nullify these golden threads
moments sewn in childhood or later on along the walk of life
the radiance of a true friend glistens ~ no thing can snuff its’ bright light  

Little paws
eagerly waiting.
Eyes locked on me.
I load the car
while she waits patiently.

Her persistence
pays off.
I follow along.

Leave the car behind.

Tail raised high.
Mellow meows.
She even checks
to make sure I follow.

Today’s destination: the parking lot.

Cars demand inspection.
Humans are met
with visible annoyance.

I do not know
why she showed me this place,
but I love
that she did.

child on playground swing
    To and fro with laughter loud
yet to know heartbreak