Saturday Matinee

Play for me oh wind and green

rustling raucously for a few bars

whilst the gold dipped paint brush

dabs and flecks the soft leafy stars

Dance for me old leaning fence

all smiles and chipped teeth

gliding with that Virginia vine

toe to toe and cheek to cheek

Sing for me chorus of barking spaniels

while falling petals pirouette

and nimble bees sway with the clethera

proving mother nature's triple threat

Act for me players costumed in wild glory

for this lavishly staged show

before an audience of newly shorn grass

and the angels who bid the blades to grow

Fishing with Terns

Float upon the wind

and then flap like mad

spot what you want

in the clear waters below

channel the hummingbird

as you hover overhead

while the wave breaks

back up and then dive

holding nothing back

let gravity drop you

like a stone into the surf

maybe you will come up

with a silver flash

thrashing in your beak

or perhaps you will come up empty

either way you gave it your all

you will get one next time

and when you do

you will throw your head back

and celebrate with a throaty trill

before beginning all over again

with the earned wisdom

that the only way to soar is to fall

Self defense

My father taught me self defense

when I was just a girl

How to twist my arm and pull down

if ever I am grabbed 'round the wrist

by some menacing assailant

How to seek the weak link

between the forefinger and the thumb

and break the controlling circle

in one swift unexpected move

But I have not yet learned

how to twist and break free

from the unseen grip

that encircles my heart with worry

Where is the weak spot

amongst the icy fingers of fear

The grace of gravity

Stillness is the key

to unlock this great green world

it is not until you sink

deep into the swing

through the wooden seat

into the wild earth

so that the breeze itself

becomes you breath

that the invisible door

hinged between two tall pines

opens just a crack

so you may glimpse

the world beyond

the dance of the dragonfly

part aerial dogfight

part Viennese waltz

the grace of gravity

guiding the twirling leaves

swirling like summer snow

it falls upon the pond

and the water holds its breath

there is a ripple of sheer delight

as sunlight brushes the surface

like a warm breath

on the back of a lover's neck

and you see now that humans

have much to learn of love

we think it is ours alone

but the shivering birch knows better

Waiting

Another crowded waiting room

more "important people"

taking their sweet time

as if Time were something

they could option and own

But they can not buy

the rights to Right Now

Right now there is thinking to be done

drifting daydreams to follow

deep breathing to attend to

sounds and sights to absorb

There is a Hollywood icon

sliding out of her matted frame

under flickering florescent lights

how long has she been here

butterfly wings pinned to paper

Unobserved by a dull eyed assistant

who discusses her next weekend plans

quietly into her bluetooth

even though it is only Monday

Her grey pants blending in

with the grey carpet squares

placed diagonally and cross grain

for some kind of visual interest

or perhaps to draw attention

away from the unsightly stains

How many hopes have been spilled

upon this waiting room floor

How many dreams laid down

like Yeats's coat to be tread upon

by polished shoes with shredded soles

Cracking nuts

I open the creaky drawer

in the tiny cabin kitchen

looking for a spatula

to turn the grilled cheeses

when I come across a set

of silver braided nutcrackers

In a flash I am sitting

near the stone fireplace

at Christmastime

seven years old and marveling

at how quickly my father

can shell the pecans

and uncover the bumpy

flesh of the walnuts

that we all agree

look like tiny brains

Now here it sits

the hand powered appliance

looking foreign in its antiquity

and I can't help but think

that no child today

would be able to identify

the strange two-legged utensil

Nuts come in green cans

on supermarket shelves

don't they?

I determine then and there

to track down a set and buy it

so that my children will know

that not everything in life

comes pre-shelled and easy

but sometimes it tastes better

when you crack it yourself

Stories in the sky

Grecian statue clouds

mailable marble above

first a goddess on high

her noble profile

swept with curled tendrils

of a windblown mane

strong sure Roman nose

tall thin neck

stretching longer now

until woman becomes swan

beak from nose

wings born of lustrous locks

graceful swift bird

swimming through the air

she tries to escape

the rabbit turned fox

stalking up from behind

finally he leaps forward

and upon landing

is engulfed by the swan

predator and prey merge

begetting the angel

messenger of heaven

ablaze with a holy call

flying higher and higher

and the cumulus minstrels

keep telling stories in the sky