Friday, November 28, 2014

Late Bloomer

Late Bloomer

In October
when the neighbors' trees
flame to russet
it remains green.

We always wonder
if it will stay this way,
its leaves carrying
last spring
like a song that left.

The trees in other yards
flaunt all shades
of autumn,
then toss in the wind,
losing each last bright streak.

Third week in November:
and they've flown. 

But suddenly 
when we've almost given up
the holdout  tree
starts to melt from
 to soft butter
opens blanket yellow
as clouds stall

Every year
right around Thanksgiving
when the low autumn sun hits,
it fires to unceasing
and uncompromising
yellow gold.

keeping well
into December.

its own 
but welcome 
late harvest.

It never fails
to astound
and we always feel guilty
at exactly the same time
as if our doubt
could have stopped it
from glowing.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014



Red hat.
Green jacket.
Grey shoes.
Make up when
I like.
No make up when
I don't.
Music I choose.
Food I delight in.
People I crave.

Long monologues
on the weather

Not changing
my figure now,
nope, sorry.

I don't have to.

Got a problem with that?

Monday, November 24, 2014



Smoke flies over
streets, the hospital
the cameras
out in flames
This is what 
looks like
sounds like

No one moving
except police

Signs, singing
but too few

Friday, November 14, 2014

Comeuppance: Dad at 89

Comeuppance:  Dad at 89

He finished most of the crossword,
left two rows.
After he left
I corrected "i" to "e."
He came back in two hours,
completed the puzzle.
Eighty nine, and he finished
the sudoku, too,
which I cannot begin to see.

My knowledge fills one or two spaces.
His spans words, numbers
and sciences
I will never retrieve.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014



When the deer came.
The sky was arched with pink streaks
and there was a mist over or between 
grass and leaves.
It was as if crystalline air blew them
into this life,
then wafted them into the hedges.
Confused, they stared at me
as I pushed the door aside
and walked onto the patio.
Two more seconds,
and I wouldn't have seen them.

Now,when twilight begins,
I look for them to crash
through the lines,
but the sky and sun stay
calm and free of magic.
I keep staring.
I have forgotten how to hope.