Kelley’s Island bonfire

Kelley’s Island in Lake Erie

primitive cabin with electricity that went off and came on

as it would decades ago

but plenty of driftwood drying on the lawn until ready

visiting extended family built a bonfire on the rocky shore

neighbors and strangers from up and down the coast

came to the leaping orange of the flames and spitting sparks

as we sang The Cannibal King and Swing Low Sweet Chariot

with my sister beside to hold me i let my toddler self be gleefully frightened

of the flitting firelight and shadow playing terrifying angles

on even familiar faces

grandma of great fortune

woman of courage completing her master’s

young women of solid accomplishment finding their feet and quiet strength

these are my granddaughters

fun musician graduating high school

caring college student working from and for home

brilliant young rebel honored by university for fighting for justice

firstborn of my grandsons taking on love and life with compassion and joy

these seven of my great fortune

oregon may 1st

may has arrived

chill, gray, deflowered, hopeful

man will learn to care

tarnished rules

rules are sometimes stupid, like the old one where, if two

drivers came to a four-way stop at the same time,

each must wait until the other had gone

but rules are attempts to prevent chaos, to lessen anarchy

so we can live at peace

thus, we are upset and discouraged by trending attitudes of

“I can do whatever I want”

a recent clothes shopping trip where several women before me

left the clothes they didn’t want in heaps around the dressing room

or vacationers who littered and damaged their rented spot

or anger in traffic escalating into gun violence

or, at our local school, a pair of youngsters planning to beat up

a fellow student, but when a teacher intervened, beat and hurt her, too

perhaps we need to simplify and turn again

to the Golden Rule

clouds have their own ways

individual clouds have their own ways

some, misty and delicate, float; some puff up as though

with laughter and good will

some, blushing blue, sprinkle rain; some pound the earth with deluge

a few gather discontented, angry friends and fellow haters

to dance themselves into spinning frenzy

creating pain and havoc

mostly on those who had nothing to do with whatever triggered

that cloud’s dismay

haikus this odd april

haikus in this odd april

osprey nest abandoned/ pair had nestled over eggs/ driven out by fierce cold

do does remember/ harsh winter or teach their young/ to hunt by instinct

do ducks know numbers/ how to count the trail of duckling/ mourn the one missing

distorting to delight

ribbons of water cascading appear as glass columns

shift-shaping greens seen through them

to fantastical beings, fairy-like, intriguing

drawing me to remember my delight in this world

before i thought i knew everything

red sky in the morning

smoky red sky to the northeast

as though the mighty Columbia were hosting wildfires

but it is only – i hope – dawn

we’ve had fire near often enough in the past few years

to be wary of more and compassionate

towards all who suffer terror and loss and fire danger

how i learned to swim

how i learned to swim

 rafters on wood deck over sealed, empty metal drums

in the frolicking waves of Lake Erie off Kelleys Island

uncles threw me in; now row away from me

as i doggy-paddle, laughing

knowing they’d risk their lives

to keep me from harm

regal dawn

dawn fog lingering

in the valley

wraps itself in purple tints

to watch storm clouds

sundered by rolling gold

of the day’s arrival

emerge

(a pantoum)

emerge

a pantoum

emerge

darkness to light

out of shadow

fight for existence

darkness to light

will to live

fight for existence

harbinger of hope

fight for existence

out of the shadow

harbinger of hope

emerge

bouncing rain

as though each cloud had a separate mind

individual ideas of what the climate should bestow

the drops are flat and then elongated

become this minute hard and bounce

off pavement, windshield

the wipers only add to the confusion

of an april afternoon of this oddest spring

tribute to our bill stafford

tribute to our Bill Stafford

a man of the earth finding joy in hummingbirds

and fulfillment teaching grandchildren

a man who painted and drew wildlife into his world

a man of words, words twisted into puns

a man of laughter

a man of the earth

haiku 4/15/2022

 my world ice-slathered

tinted by night-indigo

awaits dawn and hope

true palette

what if we could convince the purples that the blues

that are not trying to steal the chroma, the vibrant pigment which is the joy

of themselves or the vivacity of what they have drawn life

but that powers that want, for their own wealth in being,

disharmonies to remain as they are

perpetuate ancient lies so the fear of ‘not enough’ fuels ‘I better get mine’

what if the truth of abundance were to tinge pale hues , allowing

purples, blues, greens, oranges–all to recognize themselves

as vital, nuanced shades of the whole palette of beauty

haiku april ninth

sunshine not always

warmth as on spring days testing

winter or summer

laughing at Nature

i chuckle at how the bobcat cub saunters

through my back yard as though it were his

though he never offers to split the property tax bill

but my amusement is short-lived as i remember

Mother Nature’s taxes are matters

of life and death

haiku

that which we allow

pulls at our dreative core

taxing what is best

osprey spring

osprey male alone, perched atop their pole

waiting, spying, swooping

lifting to refine their nest from years ago, waiting

and now she’s come, his mate

the nest their focus, with joy times smuggled

speaking softly their language of love and devotion

before demanding chicks

take up their summer days in feeding and protecting

a pair, a team vital, to each other

and to the survival of the osprey race

seeds of cosmos

farmer friends sent seeds from their last year’s

cosmos flowers

in thank you for small gifts for their wedding

cosmos are so lovely, pink and white, delicate

lacy leaves as fragile as love

as enduring as devotion