Saturday, July 31, 2010

Taking Chances

I am the frog
Sitting upon a lily pad
Floating on a pond
Of expectation
And anticipation.
I do not know how deep it is
Or what may lie within its waters.
I bask in the green glory
Of the mid-summer sun
And bathe in the wild water
From which I was sprung.
I am the frog
And I must take my chances.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

July 29

Late July’s warm rain
Makes the barefoot walk to the mailbox
Feel like swimming in the Caribbean.
Clover blossoms stick secretly between the toes
Lungs inhale a lusty moist zephyr
Hair hangs in seaweed locks.
A catbird follows overhead
Lofting with some labor
From branch to branch
She sings and sings
Hoping I will catch the tune and join in
The sly sylvan chorus.

Monday, July 5, 2010


Best thing I ever did
Was to sink eight cedar posts into
The soil upright,
Stubbed off at five feet.
A garden fence.
Catbirds and Wrens bird-hop the tops
Back and forth.
Peering towards the potatoes
They issue a silky call
Then drop down.