Posts for June 30, 2026 (page 10)

You’re a circus leaving town. The colossal tent collapsed and stowed like a deflated heart. A dazzled three-ring, high wire, red nosed, eye-boggling, eye candy, cotton candy, daredevil, juggled, breath-defying merriment.  In the distance, a lion’s fading bellow.  Elephants trumpet in response.  We shuffle our feet in the dirt of the empty lot hoping for forgotten treasures.  Sawdust sparkles the sun like fiery confetti.  

Words litter bare ground
We put them in our pockets
Take them home to plant  

Cheers to you all!  Be well.  Be safe.  Stay cool.

My toddler grandson
snuggles close, reads
the illustrations of girls and boys
cloud-watching,
somersaulting,
running out to play.

Sleep time, I rub his back.
In pitch dark I tell
him his dolphin
pillow is so soft. He replies,
No, it’s not a dolphin.
Dolphins have small teeth.
Whales have small teeth, too.
It’s a shark, Oma.
They have big, big teeth.

His voice trailing off,
I suggest we write a poem
about this in the morning,
after breakfast.

He drifts off, whispers,
Okay. But poetry first.

to recall 44 years of writing 
and rewriting our compact–

    this wonder of laughter
    and loud words, 
    sick crying babies,
    travel around the world
    returning to meals
    at home with family. 
    evenings just for two
    on the backporch
    watching fireflies,
    the dying light. 

how do we humans 
manage to mate
in tenderness,  
such fierceness?

The sun lifts above the horizon

an orange ball intense in its glow

turning golden as it rises

Smoky skies lock in the scathing

heat that boils our blood, melting

glacial ice and mountain snow

Breaking into chunks of ice that

dwindle, leaving the earth adrift

while even the oceans swelter

In the evening, the crimson sun

becomes a seething inferno as it

slips into the realm below.

With a climate gone crazy we suffer

what we have created, no longer denying

that we knew, yes, we knew.

Around me, this
Broad, bold, benevolent
Circle of gratitude
Daily reminding of the 
Ever-giving nature of the universe
Forming concentric circles of 
Grace in abundance for
Healing and revival, an
Infinite source of 
Joy and peace
Knitted together to form a 
Life rich and revelatory from each
Morning’s first light to each
Night’s dusky stillness
Observing the lyrical
Perpetuation of a pure gentle hum
Quieting your mind to its
Resting state, feeling the 
Soul lightening 
Touch of the Divine offering
Unending guidance in your 
Visioning of tomorrow and tomorrow
Worlds of possibilities and unbounded
eXaltation of the now and 
You, as you return to your center, your
Zen

* Abecedarian Poem

worn thin silk long enough to trip me
loose sash tied at the hips
unusable sleeves unsewn at the seams

as the cast of many who’ve worn it before
left damp and discarded
on my lavishly heated tile bathroom floor

The perfect perfume for any morning revere
with the wrens and chickadees,
the cardinals and goldfinch,
and from across the yard,
because they’re not a fan
of cracked corn and sun seeds,
robins, scratching for grubs in the garden.

True to their name, they sing.
True to their nature, they fly.
True to myself, I take a moment here.

There is no deep woods where the mosquitoes don’t bite.
I must return to mine own upon the last sip of my coffee.

Drive along an interstate stretch
in a state of continuous improvement.
Slowed and winnowed into one lane,
your speed is set by
a grunting Peterbilt ahead.

Separating lanes of coming and going
are the tapered Jersey barriers
where you glance to see the weeds,
thistle and teasel,
stretching up from the bottom.

Marestail finds a millimeter
of weakness, a crack in the seam
to push through the mix of rock and
cement with ferocious intent.

What work they do before they
ever get to light! Grasping to root
in packed soil only to be labeled 
invasive and nuisance,
a failure of the paved order.

Targets of programs with
mowers and chemicals to kill them,
the weeds adapt.
They keep coming back,
just keep coming back.

Problem is we’re not going to get
any better without help.
There are always people that take
advantage, but we have always
seen that they are few and far between.
The rules of coexisting have been
thrown out by one side. How else
can you produce a trillionaire?
By ignoring the pleas of the helpless,
the unhoused, the hungry, to fill
a dangling maw that will never
be sated. No one person should
ever hold so much power, just like
no one person can do anything
about it.  Stop fighting with
each other and work toward
a better future for all 8 billion
of us. Ants rise up. Eat the rich.

I write
but cannot escape
the urge to edit
to purge words
to play the censor.
I analyze
analyze
analyze
yet recognize

that analyze begins
with anal.