Reconsider
I need to rethink
I need to reconsider
I need my best pen
Reconsider
Good Morning
Good Morning
Awake. Muscles stretch.
A tiny black nose meets mine
from under the quilt.
And another one.
Two boys, ready to go out
and sprinkle the rocks.
Back inside for treats
Breakfast: yogurt, graham crackers
Jeans leg tug of war
But not with dress slacks
They know the difference – pants
mean there’s a meeting
And Dad is thinking
all serious, so no play
when pants are involved
Until time to leave
They sit on the sofa arm
Wagging tails ~ (more treats)
Little ways we live
Dance steps of love with our dogs
That make life better!
Penny
Penny
My therapist died.
She would not dye my hair green
because she knew me.
When things were beyond
my control I would tell her
to cut my hair short.
Penny knew that when
a woman’s world spirals she
tries to change her look.
I’m going to miss
my secret keeper and friend
who kept my head straight.
Rest In Peace, Penny.
Who Lies Here?
Who Lies Here?
who lies here?
a cemetery
a headstone
an urn
a photograph
perhaps no final resting place
perhaps many
who lies here?
someone with a birth weight
delivered, diapered
swaddled in a blanket
placed into the waiting arms
of a tearful mother
full of hope for her baby
who lies here?
someone who stood up
took first steps
fell down but
kept standing up
who lies here?
someone who stood up
in first grade
recited the Pledge of Allegiance
before ever learning to read
who lies here?
someone who stood up
for a friend
on the playground
or in a war zone
someone who
had someone else’s back
who lies here?
someone who stood up
for what was right
who voted
who lived with passion
who felt conviction
who bravely took a side
who lies here?
someone who stood up
and made a promise
and kept it
someone who stood up
who signed up
who enlisted
who lies here?
someone who stood up
for a country
someone who stood up
for rights
and freedom
who stood up for family
who stood up for strangers
who stood up for you
who lies here?
someone with a death weight
delivered home
swaddled in blues
entombed in a flag-draped casket
eternally held
in the indebted arms
of a nation
whose hearts still beat
to the marching cadence
of the memory of
one who stood up
who lies here
Zzzzzzs
Zzzzzs
Those few extra zzzzzs
When he takes the dogs outside
Does your job for you
All so you can sleep
Just a little while longer
Because he loves you……
O. Deer
O. Deer
Her doe name is O.
O. Deer is nibbling breakfast
close to the window.
Fitz and Boo explode!
O. Deer ignores, forages.
She’s One classy doe.
O. takes her sweet time.
She lingers over grasses,
dismisses asses.
Her priorities
do not include arguing
with foolish dog foes.
Satisfaction
Satisfaction
A Chueh-chu short sonnet
aaba cada
Shall I retire at fifty four?
I would be blessed forevermore!
I’d linger with my pen a while
instead of racing out the door.
Retirement thoughts bring dreamy
smiles,
daydreamy gaze of coastal shores ~
I want a plan that lets me breathe
sheer satisfaction to the core.
Oatmeal
Oatmeal
there’s nothing like it
oatmeal
with brown sugar
and cream
oatmeal
there’s nothing like it
with maple syrup
and mixed berries
or with bananas
and milk and honey
there’s nothing like it
oatmeal
versatile oatmeal
with raisins
and cinnamon sugar
there’s nothing like it
(Today’s breakfast was a Viator poem – my first attempt at this form today shifts the refrain in each line to the next sequenced line in each stanza where the refrain is always the final line of the poem)
Onyx Fox Squirrel
Onyx Fox Squirrel
There is a certain fox squirrel….
that drives our Schnauzer, Fitz, nuts. He is no ordinary fox squirrel – he is onyx black with a tan nose, rather the size of a medium rabbit, who scampers curiously at the edge of the woods, his long bushy tail like a Jetski rooster, flagging his location as he darts about the tree line. His tailflag lowers and hangs like a damp dishrag whenever he snoozes as a black bear would on a limb, legs drooping down either side, illustrating the essence of coziness in a tree. He has absolutely no regard for Fitz, who watches from his window and barks incessantly to threaten the squirrel crossing boundaries. Fitz considers this particular squirrel even more maddening than the rest of his menagerie of lizards, deer,
and other critters all combined.
We’ve talked about this, Fitz and I. And I’ve suggested that this squirrel could be deaf, wise, hyper focused or selectively ignorant.
Deaf is a possibility, though not a strong one since he’s surviving in a territory filled with land and air predators. He didn’t get to be this age without a high degree of withitness. Hyper focus is also possible, but also unlikely because of the need to have the full 360 degree awareness of his surroundings to survive. Fitz believes the squirrel is ignorant and takes full canine offense to this selective tuning out by the squirrel, whose behavior shoes more than it ever tells Fitz that all the pine seedlings in the ground are more interesting than a mere glance at a fat black Schnauzer. But if I had to pick, I would say that the squirrel is wise and intentional in his patterns and routines. Every school kid could take a lesson from this furry rodent who does not let others get to him. He moves about his life with purpose and does not let his enemies ensnare him or rabbit-hole his efforts. He knows himself as the strong, important creature he is and does not allow himself time to stop and compare his own unique qualities to those of this fool-headed dog. He represents the true Libertarian logic “to each his own” – he is thinking : I’ll live my life, you love yours. I don’t care about your politics, religion, sexual orientation or income bracket – I’m fully supporting myself and I am capable of making my own choices without heeding your sphere of influence.
The halls of every high school would be filled with far more successful students if they took some social lessons from this clever and wise fox squirrel! Nature – including our dogs – has much to teach us about human interaction!
Farm and Island Dog Joy
Farm and Island Dog Joy
The deer conversations of the morning are nothing like what happens next in the timeline of a day in the life of one of our boys. There are all these lizards that bask in the windowsills of our house and drive our fearless Schnauzer, Fitz, to the brink of insanity –
Broad Headed skinks, Five-Lined skinks, Fence lizards and Chameleons. This whole daily charade starts each day when the sun rises over the Johnson Funny Farm pines situated along the eastern boundary of the farm and warms the Savannah Gray bricks in the Reading Room windowsill overlooking the southeast edge of the pine forest. Fitz is long awaiting their appearance before they ever arrive – he lies in wait on the olivaceous ottoman and calculates his newly-devised attack strategies. Generally, he begins with the whiny alert that there is a considerer who pokes his head up and flagellates his tail before he ever commits to actually sprawling out into the full lizard bask – this goes on for fifteen minutes or so. He escalates to a high- pitched short bark just before any of his reptilian enemies relax – just enough to keep them wondering if the glass will offer protection from Fitz’s futile hunt for the day. Once any of these slithery specimens settles in enough to close its eyes, the full-on glass pawing begins – and sometimes on the inside sill to add noise and violent vibration, like bed-digging clear to China.
The serious manner of his imparting fear and intimidation into his lizards is real to him and comes with a sheer passion to not only protect his people but to someday succeed in the art of the hunt – to bring home a trophy just like a farm cat would, dismembered and mostly mauled beyond recognition except for perhaps half a head and a set of spindly claws from a foot. For Fitz, the whole encounter must be a lot like watching a hunting show on TV – all the while knowing that just like you will never win a new car watching The Price is Right in a game show, you’re never going to catch a lizard on the opposite side of a window pane. But still – your excited heart is drawn into the rush and you can’t let it go.
There are no conversations between Fitz and these lizards as there are with the deer – at least not that I have overheard. He is not threatened by them in the least – he simply wants to tear them apart and be praised by his people as a great and legendary lizard hunter. Oh, for that day to arrive!
Meanwhile, on a barrier island off the coast of Georgia, Fitz’s adopted Aunt Kona, a Schnoodle seven years younger than he – who reigns as queen of her local dog park and who is known by name to all the locals – is having a birthday party today at 5 pm inside the double fence. All the regulars and the dog owners will be there as she leads the birthday parade into the park with a portable cooler full of ice cream for the guests who are there to celebrate the difference she has made in her owner’s life in only four short months. She entered his world only through divine intervention – (understand: there is no such thing as a free female young doodle, delivered in the arms of a man wearing a Florida State University t-shirt who drives three hours to meet you halfway for the drop because he’s going through a rough divorce and knows that his prayers for his dog have been answered – – this happens nowhere in this world except by the hand of God in Romans 8:28). Celebratory cheers will erupt in the park today as attendees select their choice of ice cream sandwiches, nutty bars, and other sweet frozen treats. They’ll lift their hearts in joy as they sing a birthday song to a sweetheart of a dog who has brought a band of caring folks together who all share the unconditional love of their dogs – a love that transcends all that is humanly possible.
Common Threads 