Sunday, October 27, 2013

Goodnight Lou Reed


Farewell to Lou Reed and the others,
Their muse once heroin and morphine…
Strongly fighting their life of demons;
Bravely pursuing a more prurient dream.

Cowards like me, injected their words,
We bathed in their warmth of despair…
For one moment to feel like Candy,
Drugged and too numb to care.

Goodnight from this kid from white suburbs,
Grateful you allowed me to hitch a ride…
Safe in my room, looking life in the face,
I took a walk on the wild side.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Kingfisher Envy



The Kingfisher on my fence today,
Is propelled by his attitude.
He scolds me on my daily walks
Screeching unbird-like tweets, so rude.

I attempted once, a friendly chat,
He replied by attacking my face.
Comparing my lot size to Penn Cove,
I guess he actually owns the place.

He’s perching now on the telephone wire;
“I am demanding you look at me! 
Your dog on a leash, your grounded feet,
Don’t you wish you were feathered and free”!


Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Prisoner of the Sea



An Island home is a prison
Locked in by water on every side.
You can only run the length of the road,
Or as far as the island is wide.

I am learning it's not the water,
Possessing the jailer’s key.
Lately, I have met the warden.
He lives deep inside of me.

I have morphed into one of the locals
Facing the daily, relentless wind,
One who vows to continue thriving
Despite long winters without end.

It is the Rye Grass in the sunrise,
Beach footprints of several deer,
The bluffs and the rolling prairie,
Imprisoning me still here. 

Kingfishers, seals and often a whale,
Crocus sprouting through a spring hail:
Keys to the lock that will not fail
My peace; this incredible jail.




Sunday, October 6, 2013

Orchard's Diary


The view from my tractor is apples.
Weather changes the orchard each day.
Violent winds arise from no where
Gleaners find bruised fruit in the hay.

Discs bury the last of the windfall,
Now entombed with the orchard’s past:
Crow feathers, dead rabbits and fallen nests
Robin’s eggs abandoned, never hatched.

This is my life, plain and simple 
My land once plowed by horse teams.
The orchard both nurses and buries
Life cycles and failed dreams.