momentary

tall osprey fledglings now

two slender necks and shoulders

show above the rim of the bulky nest

stoic, stalwart male on the bar above

keeping watch, waiting

that momentous time is soon

when one or both young

will spread enormous wings

to swoop or fall as parents,

helpless to aid, look on

i can only wonder if in hope.

longing

 remembered moments

of longing to be held close

but he backed away

joy of sharing

talk and laughter among friends

who came to share potluck

and the sound of the ocean

wing spread

fledgling osprey chick

rises to a stand in nest

high atop utility pole

shudders, then lifts out

impossibly long wings

far to the sides of its slender body

raises them to shoulder level

only slightly bent at each elbow

wanting something but barely

contemplating the thrill or demand

of flight

renewal of waves

renewal of the waves

one after another, after another

stretching up, cresting, breaking

in air-pale foam, pounding, spreading

reaching on shore

receding and gathering again

carrying elements of one world

to another, again and again

speaking an ageless language

of perseverance and near-imperceptible

change over time

drained

drained from loss

after loss

from effort needed

to put up a front

always knowing

incredible blessings

but needing to hide

now

just for a while

Include more text here to close out the blog, or just delete this box.

for Patty

 memorial

memories

drawing feelings, tears

laughter, whimsy, sorrow, dread

laughter again, this time subdued

in the realization she is gone

tumbling chaos

 black puppies loose

in the dark of night

gentle reaches

gentle spirits murmur

but i charge on, busy

with who knows what

fighting, for i am a fighter

and i will not give in willingly

gentle breezes touch me

and I lean against a rock

and slow my breathing, unsure

of what truly matters

until i give in to the one

who has whispered,

‘Be still and know that I am God’

who

whiskered, whimsical

wishful-thinking

wrung dry by worry

little old man, little boy

youth and man

all part of one we lean on

often without empathy

reap far more

give bird seed daily

reap a harvest

of colorful flutter

and joyful song

if not through, then beside

weeping for my family

i cannot protect

i can no longer ‘kiss better’

sobbing for the pain and fear

i cannot absorb for them

knowing, remembering my own

longing to keep them from that harm

even understanding their strength

and that they must go through it alone

i can only stand beside or behind them

too wonderful for me

our minds conquer

time and distance

to maintain connection

to loved ones

in physics

there is an odd, instantaneous

connection between some far-

separated particles that makes

no more sense

and yet is true

each time we think we know

perhaps it would be better

to smile to ourselves

and admit we could still be awed

by reality

by the Pacific

dozens of people on the sand

walking, standing looking out

pondering the expanse of ocean

each feeling alone

caught in time

an infinitesimal part

of a greatness no one

can comprehend

taste of abundance

drink the wind

swallow gulps of snow

test the grit of sunflower

marvel at the texture of honeycomb

stick out your tongue to catch rain

taste generous Nature

then revel, appreciate, cherish

work to protect

drizzle shower

gentle drops, arriving individually

one-by-one, welcome

dot-dot-dotting the windshield

until my car picked up speed

down our steep Ihrig Road

splats now, group onslaught

across the width of the window

warranting wipers turned on

at least on delay

Stringtown Road asphalt blackened

nursery plants perking

maple leaves less dusty

soil between vast rows richer brown

mama osprey straddling her chicks

in the nest to feed them

as though providing shelter

as well as sustenance

osprey chicks

scrubby osprey chicks

now tall enough to peer

over the edge of the nest

at the traffic on Ritchie Road

and the man with awe in his eyes

and a camera

but their gaze is not for mere humans

they are waiting for a parent

with food

out of body

 so many cultures have believed

that dreamers leave their physical

body to experience what they dream

believing also, perhaps, that many

planes of existence are reality

and our senses are attuned

to only one aspect of being

intriguing, but life as we know it

seems so complex and interactive

i hesitate to want to take on more

without evidence as i do not

adequate for what i need to be

even here and now

tiny plea

tiny white butterfly flittered

near like an asterisk calling

attention to itself. ‘Here I am,”

it seemed to whisper, ‘perishing

in this early summer sun. I don’t

have dark blues or blacks

or large, wide-spread wings

that would help me cool myself.

Your global warming is killing me

and so many others. Please, please

tell your others to change

how you use our earth and air.’

Nana’s Irish Pub

Nana’s Irish Pub at Nye Beach

dark woods within, open patio

with shade to hide those who burn

in the sun and a metal water bowl

beneath each table to refresh dogs

while their people eat thick corned

beef sandwiches oozing melted cheese

while wrens flit along the cobbled

bricks looking for crumbs

when there are none, patrons sipping

ginger beer drop generous supplies—there is plenty to share

and all of it delicious