Rising to the Occasion

The sun’s still hiding behind 
The ridge of the mountains 
Waiting for the day to begin 

Something quivering 
Deep inside 
The dark sleeping martyred 

Earth lightly nudges you, 
It’s high time you rose 
To seek salvation, too. 

Heat Wave

Having a hard time pin 
Pointing what one is? 

You’ll know you’re in 
One when 

Even those cooling 
Beads of sweat 

Round your block 
Head sweat. 

Paperback Writer at Wits' End

I got this crazy hunch-- 
Stand back from what you’ve been 

Bent over all day, you’ll see 
What’s screwed you up 

Right away. 

Idyll: Field Mice Out to Pasture

Just when you think 
You’ll never make it through 

Another down day, 
A crepuscular 

Screeching flash of a hoot 
Owl lifting you up and away! 
. 

So no more mooning round 
If you please, plenty 

Of green cheese about 
For the likes of you and me. 

Alzheimer's

Cypress trees take souls--at least 
That’s what my mother-in-law 
Claims as we sit under our tall, 
Twinned ones having breakfast 
Before my wife takes her 
To the doctor for a belated checkup--
Olives give us life, she continues; 
Besides, I don’t recall seeing any 
Olive trees in cemeteries, do you?