Thursday, May 27, 2021

Treetops and Rooftops

Out my kitchen window is a lovely eastern golden morning view of treetops and rooftops
that sometimes actually glisten.
and then, of course, as I knew when I made the decision to live there,
the inevitable relationship with the alley.
It’s an alley; people use it as a bypass or a hiding place.
This morning I saw a young man walking slowly up the alley,
dressed for a Sunday afternoon on a Monday morning.
I adjusted the blind so he wouldn’t see me looking
and plugged in the coffee pot.
Was he calm or lost in thought?
Out of a driveway a car crept up the center of the alley behind him, super slowly.
I turned to put the bread in the toaster and set the butter beside it.
I went back to the window. The car had stopped.
He had stepped in front of it like Superman. But I couldn’t read the mood—
he walked around to the driver’s open window
and leaned his hips full contact with the door to talk.
I got the milk for the coffee.
I looked again. Now a woman was out of the car, embracing him.
She was dressed for work.
Did I hear crying? Murmurs.
Consoling? Arguing?
Pleas? Admonishments?
It all just sounded so watery, distant.
But then she sobbed pain and hurt or was it anger?
I looked down to butter the toast
and when I looked again she was back in the car,
and there was some kind of continuing exchange…
“Don’t drag it out,” I said to no one but me, “Just drive away.”
It really was none of my business so I ate my breakfast.
I don’t know what she did.
But when I brought my empty dishes to the sink,
there was no sign of either of them,
just the view of the treetops and the rooftops,
colors sharpening in the day’s advancing light,
and the alley of course.
JO'S/ 2016

Wednesday, May 26, 2021

Walking to the Store


Waiting at the red light to cross the big street,
I always step back from the curb to be visible, as I am vulnerable.
Across the several lanes of traffic
a silver car slows to make a right (it has the light).
I catch sight of the woman driving with smooth confidence,
steady agency,
and it occurs to me,
(perspective: historically)
fearlessness reigns
with the car as the apparatus,
as there and there and here and there they go,
finally, the commoners have attained knighthood status
each and all
(ostensibly so)
clad in a suit of armor.

Wednesday, March 03, 2021

Gift from the Gray


Toward the window:
what is that funny sound
crackling against the pane
it taps in rapid staccato
what phenomenon? It's the rain!
It seems that I forget it happens
between dry lengths of day to days
and even as the clouds gather
habitual thinking says
expect nothing. So joy ensues
when the song begins--
clapping introduction to a hymn
of falling, refreshing
rain.
Let the
soothing
soak
in.
rain on window pane

Sunday, February 21, 2021

Looking Up

Tonight I looked up

And zeroed in on one star

Missing the wonder I used to feel about stars,

Not even the internal dialogue about

How the light I see tonight emanated long ago.

That conversation wasn’t there.

There was no magic

Just a feeling that the stars,

Well there they just are—

At least the ones we can still see

In our light bleached night sky

And they might be all gone to us eventually

And what if we get used to it?

Once, one spoke to me, offering good sense and comfort as my heart was being broken

But I dismissed it and ran headlong into the night of trying to unravel, undo the reality that was presenting itself; that actually he was gone to me already.

Tonight this star with its clear blue sear 

Said ha, you wonder why you are not wondering.

This time I said thank you.

Monday, January 06, 2020

On a Day

In the end, everything turned out okay,
The grasses grew where the bodies lay,
The sun would bring another day,
The atmosphere filtered fresh in its timeless way
But the mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians, and insects had gone away
With the final exhalations of the whimper.

It didn’t have to happen like this;
Free will came in every culture and form
As did prayers, meditations, contemplations and charms
But Intimidation was let to rule the day
  • A thug for Greed and soullessness
  • Shining like a beacon calling all to exhausted surrender.
And no, you are not here to read this rhyme,
Unless, of course, the wearing-down failed,
The good was hailed,
The thugs were jailed,
And Love won, and in time.


Wednesday, November 06, 2019

A Brief Inventory

Please keep the shadows long
and the afternoons golden and green
and our conversations relaxed and easy
remember the birds, they flit from branch to branch,
I like that, too.
And the slow sunset,
and the fresh colors of dusk and twilight,
oh, and night. Dark night, sparkly with stars
and a moon sometimes
but sometimes not.
Mornings gently occur
with a softness to the light of day
a hint of blue and a subtle yellow
and green hills
and fluffy clouds
and sometimes no clouds
and sometimes rain clouds
and sometimes rain
and sometimes snow for some people if they want it,
or wind that doesn't fight anybody very hard
but maybe musses hairdos and clothes a bit
and causes people to duck slightly as they step outside from inside
and makes sparks jump from person to person
or person to thing just a little and always by surprise.
And let's keep storm systems
that clean and wash the sky and rivers and oceans and forests and streets
without making the news.
Yes. All that.
Thanks.

Tuesday, October 15, 2019

Resting on the Wheel

Driving along a little side-street at fifteen-twenty miles per hour
There's no traffic but you, and it's a good thing I see you coming, big white panel van
veering over across the center
still a good 30 feet away from me.
It's all early morning slow motion
nothing to be alarmed about but hey--maybe so:
Shouldn't you be staying on your own side of the road?
I beep. Your trajectory does not change.
I honk. Your trajectory does not change.
I honk longer.
Now I can see your face, directed downward
but don't worry. I don't think for a moment that you are
dead in there, unconscious, having a health event;
I know the behavior too well
and ah, now maybe you heard my noise,
Yeah no, you still veer, and I am observing in the slo-mo-moment momentum
the diagonal line you defaulted to is unchanging.
I lay on the horn and adjust steering toward the shoulder of the road to make a bay-line around you
and I watch for the eye contact.
Your face lifts slightly and there it is, yeah no:
you raise your face to the direction of the road ahead,
that trick of timing, that tick to tell your conscience you're doing fine, little phone in one hand,
the other resting on the wheel.