the wind shifts
bucking from slow
to fast haltingly
to think of the words
and catch the breath
to say it’s sorry
now for what’s
soon to come -
a big mess in the
pool and the yard
which is more than I get
from the rest of life
that shows up without
warning certainly
never with contrition
especially grief
with a mere glance leaves tell you how they feel I’d like to learn the finer points of body language something more than just the “Hi” of a person’s stem
the birth colors of mesquite leaves or baby’s skin something with the tint of innocence in the scheme of emergence translucent spirit not a shade darker
it rained late last night leaves cleaned green and dripping wet a dog shakes itself the pen’s side of life same struggle for survival poems find heroes the big black raven perches and picks at the tra