Saturday, March 24, 2012

my favorite pet

i was raised and lived
in the midwest
as a child
the nights were hot and sticky
my little sisters and i
stayed out late
past the mosquitos
when the cool came into
the backyard
and the lightning bugs would lift
from their underground dens
magically throbbing
yellow glows of love
all through the night air.
with a peanut butter jar we'd run
and jump and catch them
in our pudgy bare feet
we pulled fragrant grass with our little fists
for our new found pets
to make them feel at home
in their  glass houses.
when we caught 4 or 5 or 6 of them
we would sit
on  warm concrete steps
of the stoop
and watch
as they filled the jar with light
and crawled desperately
over the grass
and each other
their wee red heads and
gray striped wings whirring
their little legs trying
to climb the slippery glass
our cold sweaty hands
held over the top
feeling the tickle of their
great attempts to escape
with a piece of granite and a nail
holes would be punched into
the jar's lid
and screwed on tight
for the night
time for bed
in the morning
they were dead
the first time
i cried
but then
 i got used to it.

Monday, March 12, 2012

billy and earl

billy bluejay stellar
and earl squirrel brown
lived in murphy's walnut trees
far above the ground

earl was a workaholic,
gathering night and day
while billy was a lazy cuss 
stealing where he may

                                                              earl squirrel found each nut
and buried them for later
but jay would follow, dig them up
and take them,  leaving craters

jay'd drop the nuts from way  up high
and listen to them crack!
then fly down to the open nut
 and eat them with a grrack!         chkchkchkchkchkchkchk.

                                                      earl squirrel ran in the road
(poor thing was such a clutz)
he died that day and mean old jay
cried 'blast! i'm outta nuts!"

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Saturday, March 3, 2012

w i n d 's s t o r m

i felt a rush in my head as
the barometric pressure
dropped rapidly.
it'd been warm for a few days in
the groundhog month.
the shortest month.
the love month.
the month of betrayal.

every february i am beguiled
as her cold grey churlish character turns docile and
sunny days move through
beckoning  me to clean garden beds,
plumping buds and forcing bulbs to emerge
from the comfort of their sleepy little burrows.

the  siren song of a warm friendly south wind
changed the tune of the chimes hangin on my porch.
and with rake in one hand and trowel in the other
i stand fighting my urge to make plans,
and get busy.

until this day,
again this day
when february laughs at me,
turns round once more and with a playful BITE

comes rushing back from the
West NorthWest
crashing into the warm south visitor
and pushes 'er OUT!

i heard her comin.
it was dusk when i heard her
blustering through the cedars,
whipping rain and snow in furious spits.

as we went to bed that evening, i opened the sash just a whisp
to hear her moan and whistle as she blasted by
slapping the tin on the roof of the barn
clangin all the chimes and threatening
to push down a tree or knock out the electricity

i snuggled under the down and smiled.

she didn't get me. 
i got a lot done while she was gone, and now i need a nice little break
to plan for the real spring
comin right behind her.