rain, rain, rain

the grass is greener nearer the creek
the raspberry shows her whites
slugs are out
everywhere
eating and growing
not because sun has come and gone.
All living things need water.
Rivers and oceans flow quietly by
humans as we work, raising our families;
enjoying the harvest
worrying about the grain
power and strength
surround us
my, how we need the rain!

my dog

hanging her head from the window
on a fast moving car
with the sea winds blowing across
her nostrils
she communicates joy.
With leaps and bounds, she joins
my wanderings into the car, upon the
sand and up the trails to new faces
and places; she is never daunted;
always adventurous;
ever ready to go.
Remembering those feelings, watching her
refreshes me and keeps the past somewhat
alive and not so dead.

what if?

what if
there were only
two kinds
of people
the people with the glass half full
or the half empty glasses?
what if
the world were separated
exactly in half
and the naysayers, regressives and "no-ers" were
bundled together
melded into a gray morass
and the other folks kept on without any caution
toward their progressive ways?

acorns in piles

a dry
summer
a thirsty autumn
leaves curling too early
birds scatter gathering berries from
the old dogwood tree
bent with time, disease and drought
sad and beautiful
dying, not death.

a bird blown off course

she lit in the sassafras tree,
golden brown
as the leaves surrounding her;
is she warbler, sparrow or other unknown
to me winged creatures
here only for seconds to my eye.

a turkey struts

all things are interesting
most are beautiful
we often pass by
pass on
fail to see
have a different view
inward when we need to be outward
looking and not seeing
forgetting to notice 50 colors of green
the white clouds floating in the blue sky
overhead of trees several hundred years old
and yet,
a turkey strolls by
on his or her way to do what comes naturally
looking for food, searching for the flock
or starting the whole fowl season over again
and the day goes just a bit better
and a bit better is all that's needed.

emotional response

often,
children do not call home
and siblings do not
write letters
old acquaintances up
and die
without contacting
so guilt is high
wondering
if staying in touch was whose job?

tears
start
rolling down cheeks now wrinkled from
years in the sun
oo often
and too much
and eyes are dimmed and
entranced by color so bright
it is easily seen
with old irises.

and yet, when the moments turn bitter,
sour, perplexing or confusing
the dog, she is there
giving a kiss
whimpering in echo
reaching out with
her voice
to comfort
to reassure
and to guide
among the trials of life
and defend the heart.