Birthday bash began
How does ninety look today?
Our wise happy mom

Birthday bash began
How does ninety look today?
Our wise happy mom
Why sunset and sunrise?
And not the in-between
Beams of high noon or
3:00 PM shadows looming
Why endings and beginnings?
And not the in-between
Lunches in paper bags or
3:00 PM coffee-line waiting
The mundane daily muddle
Rarely makes the blood race
Between the sunrise & sunset
There’s magic in the middle
In the time it took me to walk
The trash bins to the street
Two trips, eighty strides each
Wheeling the blue recycling
Then just simple trash
Finally a third chilly walk
Dragging a tiny brittle tree
Our Christmas, complete
The sun hovered
Glowing giant orange
Through stretching branches
Curious angles, each unique
Twists of unknown origin
Then, a glow
Why not the front row?
In unsettling times, dive in.
Bathe in Christmas brass.
A few ambitious branches glow
burnt umber, crimson and a
golden shade seen on parrots
We paddle through choppy water
Most trees lining the shore cling
to late August greens, dull and
forlorn as summer winds to an end
We paddle through choppy water
Our canoe is heavy with camping things
And firewood, for flames and pondering
We paddle through choppy water
A lone loon flies low
Parallel to the water’s surface
A precise, effortless distance
There is no flapping, simply
Levitation with forward motion
Isn’t that magic?
We paddle through choppy water
Now, an island’s fancy greeting
A rocky shore with full moon rising
Laying a glistening water runway
Bathing our canoe in moonlight
A tent, an island, a sweet retreat
The river had flooded its banks that day
Swirling around tree trunks and stranding
Muddy puddles and mosquitos along our path
We jumped the puddles and swatted bugs
I walked only a step ahead under the sun
Puffy clouds floated above when we froze
Barely breathing as that electric blue dart
Whizzed then helicopter hovered over cloudy puddles
Four translucent silver wings glittering
Then eight
Two dragonflies dancing in unabashed performance
One simple moment of life affirming perfection
Standing inches apart, inhaling magic
Minutes of awe laying a path
As wide eyes absored joyful views
Drenched in nature’s excellence
The last drunk
A slow motion drive
An innocent parked car crushed
A spaghetti jumble of steel
Bent fenders infused with heartbreak
Bumpers twisted in sorrowful tears
Today, the pain, again
Vicarious aguish as the world cries
Cheering the broken with love
And that overflowing kindness
Then, Recovery
Wonderful pain
Painful wonder
Diamond hard
Glowing beauty
As stunning
As life
Mother’s words
Explode
“It’s a good life,” she said
Inviting wholehearted
Joy
Seven AM rowdy bird screams reverb in the oppressive heat
Blasting unknown calls as others sing secret lyrics.
The chaotic symphony infuses my morning with calm.
Serenity amid the clatter.
The definition of contradiction.
Peace
I dry my seat from overnight dew as
A shaky speckled fawn sniffs
around the edges of the patio below.
Her saddle a constellation of white dots.
White tail flicking intermittently some
unseen fly as she moves out of my
Coffee spot gaze.
Welcome
On this other new dawn the weather is cooler. Relief.
The mother stands in the mulch
Just beyond the pool deck munching grass.
Yesterday’s fawn bounds toward her mom.
Baby’s head under belly tilts, grasping teat,
Sucking hard as her baby tail wags at warp speed.
Rhythmically lifting front hoof in time or excitement,
Like any joyful baby thrilling at mama connection.
Nourish
Your petering out
Won’t throw shade on persistence
Show up. Keep playing.
The moon was enormous, yellow and nearly full
Hanging low as I drove pre-dawn to arrive on time
“Don’t be late” so I drove on and stared hard not
To forget that giant magnificent high sky glow
The entire field was bright yellow acre upon
Acre covered with sun-colored wall-to-wall
“Don’t be late” so I drove on and stared hard not
To forget that endless electrifying banana glow
Sorry to rush on tomorrow I’ll wake early and stand
Long to take in the nearer full hanging low moon
Sorry to rush on tomorrow I’ll retrace to those
Yellow fields to see up close the golden blanket
Tomorrow.