Life

At the Soccer Game

My late summer walk across a steamy stadium lot
A thin young man in the wide hunter green head
Band restraining long thick curls brings on
Weighty full emersion nostalgia while blinking
Red, green and yellow river spanning lights
Oddly comfort presenting a holiday invitation
Sweet familiar smoke mixes with humid air
While sweat trickles down the back of the shirtless
Man walking ahead of me in camouflage shorts
And a full-sleeve tattoo swirling wildly in contrast
To the Philly Sports team logos tattooed on his calf
And ankle 76ers red white & blue and Union crest
I wonder where the Phillies are as his girlfriend
Pulls out of his reach as he drunk ambles turning
Left his incongruous billboard body mesmerizes me
The beer spilled 3 rows back that made slinky step
Progress toward my shoes whispers a sickening frat
Party aroma snapping maudlin memories back to now
At a certain point everything is evocative

Flow

“Flow like water through the alders”
The guide stood ten feet higher on the trail
Heavy shrubs obscured our way up
Perched gingerly on the rocky path
Impenetrable viney thick green behind
She waved her arms hula dancer style
“Flow like water” she repeated and turned
Stooping as she disappeared into the brush
Following tight I flowed low and high
Streaming up the steep mountain slope
Traversing the dark dense thicket
Lush alpine tundra awaiting our delivery
Flowing like water through the alders

July 16

The 25 year old me would never believe I’d become an early riser
Thirty years or so later I’m enchanted by the hours
The younger was convinced were meant for sleep
Or tortured wakefulness
Today’s cool and still summer coffee morning renews
Not yet the hour when lawn mowers invade
A buoying cacophony of birdsong inhabits my ears
A watering can as best friend
One step ahead of drowning summer heat
My meditation in nurturing
A missed day becomes an impatiens’ doom
Now, at summer’s midpoint, locusts insist on intruding
Crashing over syncopated trills, twitters, warbles
Still, distinct screeches overflow my morning world
A myriad of arias blend to a blaring cicada crescendo

Yearning Perfection

The naked figure is perfection in its twisted reaching
Thick solid timber creates parenthesis and crooked
Slingshot shapes arching from the enormous gnarled
Trunk squatting husky while countless tiny branches
Shoot in a thousand divers directions each striving
Wand stretching toward the enormous gray white forever
The exposed hulking giant’s adornment long overdue
Impatiently waiting overwhelming shame percolates
Longing bursting buds yearning luscious leafy green
Pining for change craggy perfection looms insufficient

Evil

When they reported his sentence
15 months
What I heard was 15 years (because that would make more sense)
My first thought
That’s not long enough
For running a crushing freight train through children’s lives
But it was only 15 months
15 months
There’s actually a statute of limitations
On destroying innocence
Crushing trust
Stomping out optimism
Planting a vile boot print on a half formed soul
This hateful man preyed on children
While wielding power
And haughtily peering down
Casting judgment
The portrait of hypocrisy
And evil
15 months