how do i answer?

 blue-purple larkspur and asters surround a vibrant sunflower

and yellow, gold and auburn roses, lilies and daisy wanna-be’s

bouquets in clear glass and handmade cream-white and blue pottery vases

preen beside the drawstring bag of earl gray tea

my heart sings with their proof of ‘i love you, mom’

my tears of undeserved joy

                                    mjNordgren  9/11/2022  N

tall tail

tall tail

 does emerge from the tall grass at the slope of my yard

stately now, and intent on feeding

the cold mornings have heralded the coming of fall and winter

yesterday a spring-born youngster wandered onto my lawn

curious about the california quail and tin bucket until

he realized mama deer was nowhere in sight

like a child, he splayed his feetin sudden sweeps of his head to look

and bounded off into the tall grass after her

mumble mutter

ranting and swearing are not my thing

although i can mumble with the best of them

under my breath

perhaps it is healthier than turning myself inside-out

with sadness over something i cannot control or even change

drat it all!

straw elderly

straw elderly

 oblong hay bales

stacked, columns leaning

into one another

like old married folks

unsteady on their own

but holding each other upright

she’ll make it work

taking on an over-active child new to kindergarten

as are the twenty-two others, and the teacher as well

ten more hands and five more gentle, soothing souls

could help bring peace

perhaps a list of parent volunteers

a couple hours a week through October or November

phases of the mist

mist resting, languid, between the hills

the few pre-dawn lamps twinkling

among shadows as mists lift and stretch

anticipating the rosy warmth of sunrise

will lift them to evaporation

to continue in their rounds

of water cycle on which our unheeding

lives depend

believe what you will

haiku

 still flat-earthers sure

north pole rises mid pancake

south pole outer rim

what food? where?

what food? where?

 yellow grass tinted green

after three nights last week of misted dew

grown inches to create a flexible maze for curious

hungry california quail chicks to scramble through

heads bobbing up, to see; down, to eat

those question mark brow adornments wobbling as the dozen or so

willy-nilly take over my yard and conquer my sense of delight

green signs

tint of green among the yellowed blades of grass

there must have been rain in the night

or dew or blessing congregations of mist

to resurrect parched life after long summer drought

                        mjNordgren  8/21/2022  N

comment from reader of mj poems in The Weekly Avocet

It’s been said old age ain’t for wimps. As I age I am starting to realize that’s an optimistic view. But if I want a reason to look toward the future I have but to read your poems. Good, very good. Imagery I must try to match.

Thank you, J.M. in Canada. As always, my talented friend who writes incredible haiku encourages me amid all the rejection. All the best, mj

of many greens

 so many intensities and hues of green

lime, jade, khaki, sea, bottle, emerald

pale near white, sickly gray

greens barely lifting from yellow; and those leaning hard on blue

jubilant greens with silver bellies flashing joy in the caress of the wind

tall, stately, haunting forest greens

mocking takeover blackberry leaves

with stems of thorns bruising black and pricking red to mimic ripening fruit

tender blades, fragile with new spring

tough corn husks, tanned brown to protect luscious yellow kernels

summer-suffering dirty, gray-brown

greens begging for autumn rains

evergreens dotting fields of snow

promising myriad greens if the rolling seasons continue to come

               Forest Grove to Lincoln City

choked compassion

i am wrung to sadness after

watching a rally reading

of The Snake poem by someone

who twists compassion

into suspicion and distrust

that chokes our seeking for solution

we have drunk full

we have drunk full, my love
swelled with the rynthm of incoming waves pounding earthly shore
connecting anemone, zebra,
and human

we have felt the tumult
of birthing waves roiled by breezes, currents, tides
our peace landed in stars

we have known
hovering, intense sky
algid, bleak, raw cold
embrittled bare twigs scratching
at ice-laced windows when frost
has cemented each breath of life
and each inhalation burned

you reached out
reminding me that love
like life
is gift watched over by angels

my love, we have drunk the wind

handbell flurry

handbell flurry

Bells of the Cascades’

fun Read and Ring

with so many ringing

the same note

it mattered not when

i made a mistake

because so many around me

far more skillful at sight-reading

that the melody came through

to be heard and appreciated

hopeful that even i

will be able to play

with practice

            mjNordgren  8/13/2022  West Linn

blundering

 haiku

 more research confirms

how little we know of life

yet how sure we are

lunch in salem

lunch in salem

 laughter and good food

shared with daughter and son-in-law

overlooking the golf course

family news and gossip

foibles and concerns

triumphs and challenges

more laughter, because we care

grateful

pictures from their wedding

enclosed in a thank you card

when it is i who was given

the privilege of being part

of their joy in celebrating

the hope, love and devotion

i, too, have cherished

will be boys

 haiku

strut their fantasy

tumble in mock fighting, then

boys rise as brothers

hoped-for relief

haiku

 gentle dawn snuggling

cool-wrapped clouds, hoped-for relief

of heat smothered fields

too long the pity party

 senryu

 numb at what i’ve lost

unbelieving she’s dying

all pity long gone