Fallen Oak

Split now two years

Left a pile behind the shed

Layered then with Fall leaves and Winter snow

Each floating silently to the perfect place

I always go when sundown comes at four and the dogs sniff the cold ashes saying, “Make it warm.”

Midnight Accomodations

It only took one word

To turn on the light

To show us the room

We’d be spending the night

It had the essentials

The owner was rash

“No smoking or sex here”

And then he said “Cash.”

Thanksgiving Haiku

Rushed seasons add speed

The frost on top adds worry

Fir trees lift their arms

And new food arrives

For chickadees are hungry

And squirrel eats last

Snow is melting now

Exposing green grass beneath

Tulips wait their turn

Old Vintage

Yes, a Spirit of the past.

Her number tells me so

Born in the flow of the Garonne

Still, quite hot that year

In Paris many perished

Unprepared for breathless heat

Still, the scent of moist evenings

And the warmth of those days

Swirls in the glassy

brown eyes of the young serveuse

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Tribute to Buck

Well I always thought the answer’s in the question

And it’s curiosity that holds the key

Yet what I sought was always where I’m standing

So I breathe the sunlit skies on bended knee

And I thought that I should share this special secret

And make sure that others saw what I could see

But the harder that I tried I saw so clearly

All I did was to create controversy

Now we argue and we fight about perspective

We condemn and then we hate furiously

What I thought would be the path to our perfection

Still what we think is not the way that it should be

Yes, it seem that every person has been given

Different ways that I think strange and that are free

Yet it’s Love that straightens paths

And fills the valleys

And I’m not the one to tell them who to be

Let the beat of different drums

Now bring us solace

And the sound of different songs now bring us peace

Cause the seed is deep within each newborn person

And it longs to feel its leaves touched by the breeze