single-handed with strict discipline, vigilant, fierce like herding cattle, except a shepherd of many flocks spread over many fenced fields but when I sometimes decide to loosen my grip, open the gates let things wander, it’s freeing I stretch my limbs and for each time I do, freedom is a strong fragrance, and how blue the sky, green the leaves and my color, strong, like every other free thing

well, a granddaughter of Shemp of The Three Stooges, her name Sandy with a bit of his nose, eyes and dark hair holding a poem, wearing a black bowler helmet which added a comical touch to her perch on a broken e-bike which could have made for a hilarious moment if she, her friend Jenna and I leaned down at the same time to examine the problem CLUNK! cue the hollow sound of three heads knocking with a logo of stars and tweeting birds circling above the scene but one

for many of you, my desert summer is like your winter extreme heat is as merciless as bitter cold, touch the window’s glass, a slow blister words get up later move slower, are lazier seldom leave the house speech is hampered consonants sound thicker vowels are slurred a slow sentence might stumble so, this time of year poetry stays indoors I watch them play some silly hopscotch game, or is it tag?