Happy Holidays to All
I am taking this week off, but I wish you all pleasant holidays. Be warm and safe. More poetry next week.
Snow will bury native grasses that feed a raft of geese crowding the lake, more geese, many more, than the land can carry. So too a pandemic thins us.
Danger in the Air
Desperate for fame, old heroes rode into battle with mace, saber, spear, whatever arms they had. In some myths magic mattered, but in our current deadly tale, we have no sword pulled from a stone. Our lungs inhale dreadful air and life wares a tissue-thin carapace. But better than a lone rider on a white…
A simple haiku
Searching, eyes soaring, watching for an eagle I see too many geese
Because It’s Art
As a sidewalk artist I would draw a good-enough apple four or five feet across, filling the walkway, and I add a stem and one leaf, color the stem true brown. The leaf, because it’s art, is blue, the fruit pale green with a red blush on the shoulder. Pedestrians skirt the apple. A hairy…