Month: March 2013 (Page 1 of 2)

Winter appeared at Spring Equinox

As usual.

Snow on the daffodil fields

White against Spring yellow.

The crocus petals drooped

In defeat.

Cherries blossomed pink,

Out of spite,

In front of gray trees

With no leaf buds.

Friends reported the

Finest day of skiing

All Winter.

Meals for the week:

granola for breakfast,

soup for lunch,

lean protein and two veggies

for dinner.

You know the drill:

dark leafy greens,

every rainbow color

on your plate.

And then

from nowhere

pizza! potato chips! cookies!

Lunch on a lazy Saturday.

Ugh, must nap.

The fragrance,

Or odor if you will,

Assaults your nostrils

Before sighting big

Bright green leaf lying

Prostrate before

A shocking yellow petal

Barely veiling the protruding

Stalk.

Nearly obscene,

If your sap runs strong,

A harbinger of spring,

Like robins and frogs,

The skunk cabbage.

These words are for Carolyn

And Arnie,

For whom Angels

Are preparing his place

In Heaven.

Arnie’s road has been

Rough

But for Carolyn’s

Unconditional Love.

It is time, Dear Angels,

To bring Arnie home

Where he may rest

For a time

Then begin his

Bakery.

Beware of the Ides of March!
Who listens to such legends?
Ceasar should have;
And perhaps so should I.
Bad news arrived;
No choice
but mirror a response.
What is the remedy
for March 15?
Stay in bed,
read no news,
talk to none
until tomorrow.

One hour ahead Sunday;
Sleep until eight,
What?
It’s dark at departure,
Barely light upon arrival.
Broad daylight at dinner;
The habit to turn on the
Porch light and let out the dog
Continues for the week.
How many days to make up
One measly hour?

You know how damp
makes cold feel colder,
and hot feel hotter?
At what place
on the thermometer
is dampness
neutral then powers
warmth?
Below fifty, no.
Too early yet,
still before Spring,
Must wait until July
to find out
when damp
makes warm
feel warmer.

I came to a conclusion,
Out of the blue,
Which is how conclusions arrive,
That climbing up mountains
Is less important (way less)
Than being
In mountains.

I prefer solitude
Of faraway beautiful places.
Routes up Mountains,
Crowded,
Footstep on footstep.
Basecamps are not lonely
Enough.

Saturday! A sunny one at that!

Must face the sun,

And take the dog for a walk

Past the woods down the road

Through the campground

To the pebbly beach.

The water is flat,

Perfect for a canoe

Or gazing through shiny water

To the bottom.