spring mulch

The rain that came in stead of snow
they say will make the flowers grow;
the leaves we piled upon their beds
have now grown brown, no longer red;
and that same rain that soaked the leaves
has turned them into soggy weaves
that I must rake and stuff in bags
that slowly sag Continue reading

Posted in NaPoWriMo, Poetry, scapes, thoughts below ground | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

The through

Parking lots hold terrors for the brave:
the simple act of shopping is preceded
by trials that’d roll Ford over in his grave
because we know that if we don’t succeed at

parking so we exit from the spot
nose first, we’ll leave it, quaking, in reverse,
afraid of hitting Continue reading

Posted in fun, Mild-mannered opinion, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Sonnets, thoughts below ground | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Precise

The predawn insomniac watches
the televised launch of space shuttle Discovery,
S171 on its carefully calculated route to the space station.
Through the wide window nearby
the predawn sky tinges pink through naked spring trees.
Eventually the sun stabs through
the clenching dark maple fingers:
yesterday molten Continue reading

Posted in NaPoWriMo, Poetry, scapes | Tagged , , | 2 Comments