hard rain…

memories
rain upon a tin roof
so gentle at first
almost soothing
but
as night hours linger
dark clouds begin to gather
and the rain pours down
harder than when
they were not memories
somehow
returning pain is stronger
than its first moments
were we not taught
that time heals all
but
apparently not
the pain of memories
in the night

 

passe…

now
i know
it’s not fashionable
but
i’m holding on
to
my old
moth-eaten
frayed
and
ragged dreams
i don’t need
any
fancy fantasies
nor
do i want to be
weighed down
by
all
the depressing
shenanigans
coming
from
the white house
i want to continue
to believe
that
this is a country that cares
not only
for its own self-interest
but
for the human rights
of
all men and women
regardless
of
race,
religion
color
creed
or
sexual orientation
you see
i’m
an american
with
the old
true
american dream

 

spring #15…

i
with the originality
of
all preschool youths
call
my irish setter
red
red
one spring day
chased
me up
one
of
the farm’s
fence post
and
kept me there
that’s
when
i saw
the snake
guess red
knew
a pup
when he saw one
next
spring
we moved to city
one day
when
i was home alone
while
mom
went a couple of doors down
to visit
my aunt
red
bit someone
trying to enter the house
mom
said
she had to
put red
to sleep
i learned
two things
i don’t like cities
and
not all snakes
are
in
the country

 

spring #14…

a spring sunday
church youth choir
singing
at
a country church
wind dancing
though
the tall grass
along
a dirt road
smells of spring
and
birds’ voices
fill the air
it would appear
the best
songs
of
praise
are
outside
the church doors

spring #13…

carol
was indeed
a gentle soul
by example
one spring
when
her neighbor’s exterminators
noted
tree rats
in her palm trees
she elected
to leave
them alone
as they
were
one
of god’s
creatures
so
you can imagine
the neighbor’s surprise
to see
her
waving her arms
and
whistling
at
a defiant rabbit
who had
reduced
her garden
to
mulch
but
not nearly
as
surprised
as
the rabbit
when
the coyote pup
got
his first kill