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seven up

Last few poems… this final year of Trump has slowed my flow, though pace does seems to be quickening.

Interesting how consecutive poems change shape.

2020.10.25 – The green leaves
2020.10.29 – 3-part Harmony
2020.10.31 – I am Wallace’s Steven
2020.11.2 – Between the step and the stair
2020.11.9 – We’re all just on a different laundry cycle
2020.11.11 – Last Summer Day
2020.11.17 – Treasure Chest

3rd poem plays with Wallace, Idaho, where I was born,
and Wallace Stevens mixed with me.

~ ~ ~

The green leaves
in their cold sleeves
wave goodbye to warm

~ ~ ~

3-part Harmony

Rain on roof
rain on deck
rain on leaves
thunder keeping time
underlit by lightning

~ ~ ~

I am Wallace’s Steven
Was Steven’s myth

Sometimes it is best
Not to reread your heroes

~ ~ ~

Between the step and the stair
the earth and the air
entangled

~ ~ ~

We’re all just on a different laundry cycle
your wash is my rinse
my cool your hot
the whole thing mostly moist and lukewarm
with different bleach for each
the lost sock extra
but shrink free
(of course)
nothing personal
as long as you got the quarters for it
and room for water run

~ ~ ~

Last Summer Day

Sun softens wax
and
sun hardens skin
but
sun soothes the soul
so
I sit in sun and soak

~ ~ ~

Treasure Chest

On my right, cat sleeps on soft rocker
to my left, dog sleeps on thick rug floor
in between, covered wife sleeps in stuffed chair

sunrise an hour away
lights off
civilization’s sounds distant

rain wind moans low
dog snores
gas fireplace dances in dark

I finish my coffee
sigh
gather the gold

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