To Evan

I think I'm ready to write some poetry,

but not now.

Right now, I'd rather think about the end of summer and Mexican food,

and a salty margarita on the rocks.

But then, I remember your golden, little boy hair flying in the wind

as you chased soccer balls down the field.



I'm almost ready to write some poetry,

but not yet.

I'd rather see a "chick-flick" with a friend, or take Nala

for a sweaty, quick stepping walk around the park.

But, then I remember how you caught lizards in the back yard

and let them go after a brief, scientific exchange of glances.



I wish I could write some poetry,

but, I'd rather check my email, or pull rangy weeds from the flower bed,

or fold laundry, or do most anything than think about you, wasting your life

and mind away on your addictions.

Opposites Attract

Something I wrote in 2007 about a special friend.


Opposites Attract

You were:
     Locked up
     Blocked off
     Tight lipped
     Zipped up
     Left brained
     Right winged
     Bisque fired
     Glazed and shrink wrapped.

I was:
     Set loose
     Unlocked
     Unplugged
     Born free
     Loosey-goosey
     Free as a bird
     Splatter painted
     Deep fried and ready for anything.

Love at first sight!

A Tribute to Riley

My mother's 14 year old dog had a stroke today.  We're hoping for the best.  Here's a shout out to Riley and all of the dogs like him!
   

 More Than a Dog

Riley, you're more than a dog.

You are ears with a perk
A tail full of wag
A soft coat for patting
A walk with a swag

Your brown eyes full of caring,
   soft as a glove,
Open into your soul and
   a heart full of love

Thank you!

The Moon is a Faulty Friend

This is a poem I wrote after returning from Ghost Ranch, New Mexico, Aug. 09.  The full moon has always had an affect on me; this poem describes it somehow.

The Moon Is A Faulty Friend


The moon is a faulty friend.
Most times, I enjoy her company;
     a sliver in the cobalt sky,
     a punctuation over crepe myrtles.


I love to see her in the morning
     unexpected in the dawning light,
     when the sun is preparing to own the day.


I take comfort in the moon,
     rising and setting like the sun,
     waning and waxing in her own menstrual cycle;
     expectations realized, no surprises.


But the fullness of her celestial
     presence as she ripens to a
     pompus plumpness, radiating
     her brashness through my
     shattered self, causes me to
     reconsider our friendship;
     she shines too brightly on the vault
     that holds our secret conversations.