National Poetry Month

I Meditated This Morning

I mediated this morning. It’s been a while.

6:27 AM.
10 minute timer set.
Comfortable chair
Bare feet square
Hands on knees
Three deep breaths
And a neck roll.

Breath in. Ummmm. Breath out. Soooo.

How long has it been since I did this? Why does my mouth make that noise when I exhale? Are thoughts supposed to drift across my mind? Or is it my forehead?

Breath in. Ummmm. Breath out. Soooo.

Is it funny that my thoughts are the Wicked Witch of the West on her bicycle? with Toto’s there too. Are those my thoughts, incarnate? Isn’t that bird chirping loudly? I love spring. Is it a lark?

Breath in. Ummmm. Breath out. Soooo.

Nightingale? Lark? Remember that in Romeo & Juliet? Was that movie in the 60s? Or was it the 70s? Wasn’t Judy in college when we went with mom to see it at the Pleasant Hill drive-in? Isn’t there a 55+ community there now? It was a double feature with The Great Gatsby. Robert Redford. Mia Farrow. That was weird.

Breath in. Ummmm. Breath out. Soooo.

Wasn’t Romeo and Juliet great though? Olivia Hussy was Juliet. Wasn’t she actually 13? How did they get away with that? Mom made us leave before it was over. We were so mad.

Breath in. Ummmm. Breath out. Soooo.

Mom said it had gotten too late and she had to get to bed. Right in the middle of the movie. We couldn’t believe it. How long was it until I saw the entire movie after that? Was it years? Remember back then you had to wait for a re-release? Then on the way home we got caught waiting for a train. For about an hour. Was the movie over by the time the train passed? It was Karma.

Breath in. Ummmm. Breath out. Soooo.

Alarm rings.
Times up.
That went fast.

I should do that more often.

Word Soup – Or Just Soup

Their tricks were not really elaborate
Barely approaching the mundane but
This was gravely serious business
In misty behind the scenes efforts
To set secret covers (or beards)

They yearned to shift the decimal point
Preferring sweet lucrative payoffs (or)
Hitching a ride on the bronze trolley
Rather than diving into a deep wet bath
The inevitable shuffle up to the bench

Along the Way

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.

Magnifying Glass

Next to my penknife the magnifying
Glass, whose handle stuck out of the
Back pocket of my Wranglers, was
My favorite provision for exploring
The woods behind our stone house
Neighborhood where I was a child.

I had ogled the knife for months with
Its grooved black wood handle, two
Blades, a nail file and a screwdriver in
The glass case with the lessor knives at
Monterey Hardware, until I finally saved
The eight dollars and fifty-fifty cents.

The knife cut the coiled rope, clipped to
My belt loop, I used to scale the dirt hill
Like a cowboy would, hand-over-hand,
When I was the freckly redheaded girl
Who arrived home tired and late in
Filthy blue jeans with ripped out knees.

It Smelled Like Spring

It smelled like spring this morning
Exquisite evocative head-filling waves
Of fresh cut grass and buds hovering
On the brink of full blown blossoms

Crisp air laced with warm sunshine
Inhaling each blustery cool-warm gust
Filling lungs with the anticipation of
Sunny warmth only moments away

Puffy vanilla ice-cream cone fruit trees
Showering down welcome April snow
Rendering greening grass a white blanket
Magical fluffy carpet beneath grateful feet