Autumn Olive

The creep is on
upwards of five to ten feet
outwards into the marshes
berms fences
entangled with
root of bladdernut
trillium oak

Even a ciotog
ends up flummoxed
bewildered
hare in the headlights
invading army of
seed and air
transported into an
enemy territory
with no enemies
a wisp of the
silver tongue is
all it needs to conquer
this dense thicket
this wily invader
is bane to the
conservationist
naturalist
leaner towards the
beneficial to
wasp and waxwing
alike

All plants are not
equal –
they have their
exits and
entrances
upon this human-
made stage
some are winners
in an alien territory
ensuring the loss
of so much

The mirror of man
is best at
shoving –
the flower
the seed
the leaf
into his own image
man – the
greatest invader
of all

Spring 2024

Say anything

I hate the very 
thought of this
relying on the 
throat of hissing
judges who reside
under the slaveowner's
gun - threaten a nail
a finger a tongue
I'd cry too

Such little men-
they need to brag
autocracy is their lifeline
to the stars which
hang above us
shining light onto the dark
guiding us to the pole
of north where we escape
the boasting
which drags us all
to hell

Reading is a wonder
lasting from sun up to
sun down every day
of the year
  go figure
I never owned such time
before this relic this
thing called democracy
yet the pressure lingers so
beware the migraine
could return and make
you say anything

#Belarus #Free #RomanProtoasevich

Tourists

They come- visitors with a
bang, knocking on the door
of this closed museum, no
hours of operation will keep
them home.

Their sense of rule
bewilders me, I would
not sully your floor if
you invited me inside
your door.

And no amount of anger
would let me disrespect
the desk where you work
where you hang your
coat, no, if I were next

in line I would wait
my turn, and let the
lightbulb shine upon
your curtain call. I
know the rules

of travel, yes I do
so these wanderers 
with noose and chain
haven't got me
fooled.

America in Bedlam

The patient – post operation
Sleeps in the ICU
Infection seeps all around her
Will she make it through?


And how much will she suffer
Will she need blood to get by
Can buffering keep her going
Before she finally dies?


The patient – she needs each one of us
With a smooth and loving caress
Justice is not an albatross
But a tool to fix this mess.


1/8/2021

Captain Courageous

Oh lily, my lily, 
with bloom of brightest gold
here for a while - then gone
in the summer storm,
but while you were here
on the living breath did shine
every bee the nectar
inclined to better times
such a cameo performance!
strengthening all who feed
history will not forget
my golden lily - she
stretches every root
of the human justice tree.

RIP Ruth Bader Ginsberg 1933-2020

Niobe in the mist

There is a tomato I have grown,
the great white, circumference 
perhaps four inches, color a 
yellow so pale you can
almost see your face upon 
its skin. And when you slice 
and eat of it, then 
you know what greatness 
truly is. I am dreaming 
tomatoes these days, their 
colors range from the 
deepest purple, almost black 
to infinity red to the nearly 
white. One has to dream, 
doesn’t one, when the flimflam 
comes to town. Such an adoring 
crowd. During a pandemic no less.
Yes, it seems one must be 
a dreamer, here in the mitten 
where dreams can be hard 
to find and collective mania 
finds so many fans. 
Behind every man who 
would be king there is 
a woman weeping, slicing 
tomatoes and weeping.

The fear peddlers

So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is…fear itself – nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
You know – there is a market
for this – the selling of terror
to the blanket crowd where
hoaxes are as common as the
ants in my garden. There is no
judgement on the content
of character when terror
owns your soul.
And they want to own your soul,
you know they do. So they
turn this fist of fear into
teargas and bullets of
rubber, throwing weapons
at the dwellers of peace,
whether it be in Kenosha or
at the Pettus Bridge. The place
names may differ, but the
actors are the same.
And perhaps you will listen
to them, buy their
conspiracies, live in the
house of dread. But just
in case courage gives you
a peek at something
different, something as
sublime as the tomato
on the vine, then join with
me and we will face the anger
and hate that is ripping at
the very fabric of those words-
all men are created equal.
We will climb the mountain,
looking ahead to the summit. And yes,
I know that a cliff is a scary place
to be, a place all too easy
to fall from. But if you don’t
venture onto the
cliff you cannot look
into the ravine. And then how
will you ever know how
far you have come?
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Sanctuary

Activity abounds here.
Once I saw a swan
chasing a goose, with
a trumpeting call she
drew so close to him
his feathers must have
shivered. I stood
watching and wondering what
did this goose do
to so enrage the swan?
Goose, swan, human, we
all figure into this
landscape of unruly plants
hiding all that is wild.
I walk here often, along the
edges, a watershed
hugging Lake Huron’s shore,
and yes I have seen an
osprey eating a fish,
a sharpie diving into
the thicket after prey.
The wild is about eating
it seems. But when the
lying is the point of
all things human and
decency has flown beyond
earth and sky, traversing
the other path is
the only way I can go.
And if you wish to
be my companion, well,
there is always room for two.
So come along my friend
and walk with me, perhaps
we shall see a swan or two.

Comments

Mask

I too, don’t like it, this entry
into the subterfuge – I know
there is a laugh, a smile beyond
what my eye can see
and I long for return
to a normalcy of seeing
all of it – whether smirk or pout or goad.

I too, am weary
of this daily vigilance lest
the creep of microscopic
organism finds entry
into living a lung filled life
my breath a red too easily
passed around.

And I too, want to ditch
this year of death
and disconnect of
hollow legs and
emptiness – oh for the life
of a toad – hop, hop, hop,
oblivion consoles.