gracious response

a brilliant thought of an author

who has captured and wide, loving

audience for her work

 and then the gathered courage

to reach out to Jane Kirkpatrick

with her own loving story

of mother’s courage growing up

amid annihilating weariness,

ill-treatment and poverty

 the response, far more gracious

than our Susan could have imagined

  ah, the difference between big and small

laughing family

laughter of cousins now distant

in location but close in caring

the warmth of siblings’ support

and knowing each other’s strength

and pain

a lunch together, rare

a sharing of love, thankfully, joyous

realism with a bang

vivid brilliance, blinding

there and gone before our minds

can react and label such power

lightning

and then, low and grumbling

a guttural observation, thunder

that comes more fleetingly upon

the flare and grows more fierce

until each is upon us, overwhelming

terror

so primitive millennia of learning

accomplishments, gadgets

unwarranted pride dissolve into shaking, proper, realistic

humility

super blue

 very early this morning

the moon near its zenith

was still brilliant white

and commanding

joyous for me pondering

the music of the spheres

it must hear even stooping

this close to earth

vein of courage

long talk

a litany of poor treatment

to speak of and be done

knowing you’ve come

out the other side

knowing that’s behind you

knowing you spoke up

and were heard

understanding you were in danger

but are now mending

and daily gaining strength

grateful even though

there is much yet to face

but also assured there is within

a vein of courage and determination

realistic solution

the permanent solution is surgery

but as i stumble decades old

what need have i for permanent

misstep

we watched his palsied misstep

feared his going down

his beloved gone from directing

each step in his life

leaving his weakness naked

for us to see but unable to help

except to accept quietly

as though he still were competent

yellow jacket trap

yellow jacket trap

sick awe as i watch the yellow jacket

trap odor lure a dozen frenzied insects

joined soon by hundreds aggressively

swarming the plastic tube unable

for an hour and more to find entrance

i go on to church, praying

for insight into the confusion we call life

returning, i retch at the increased frenzy

of the swarm at my back porch

fifty, one hundred have found their way

in but cannot get out and are trampled

by crazed newcomers and more newly

trapped walking on their bodies

climbing the plastic walls only to fall

back onto the black mass, only some

of which is struggling

and still more come

and more

grateful, fascinated, i stare

sickened, i turn away

returning to smoke

 returning to medical lake smoke

but their home still standing

as the wind did not shift

the towering flames did not leap

their arm of the lake

sighing the relief that guts

when the tension-fear eases

they will garner courage

to clean and reinhabit

and do what they can to help neighbors

in their loved community

through august

gentle rain, hardly more than mist

but it may be enough to give hope

that the far-flung

 rhodies will make it through august

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momentary brilliance

although i hear no thunder, lightning rips

through night’s darkness everyseveral minutes

not as a slash, but lighting the sky

in momentary brilliance too fleeting to convey

to our measured minds the secrets of our world

some more than others

bluster, bluff, bloat, blame, brag, boast

misdirection, misinformation, mistrust

vindictive, volatile, vicious

part of us all

some more than others

i cannot fight them

i cannot fight them

there are too many

and they are angry

always aware

quick to explore my coming

aggressive in defining danger

to themselves, to their colony

we poor humans

believe we rule the world

but there are gazillion more

insects

some armed with stingers

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fledgling flight

fledgling atop nearby utility pole

having succeeded in first flight

from the osprey nest

with those sprawling wings

he could barely raise at the elbows

now muscular enough to lift them

and they in turn have lifted him

i did not see that thrilling flight

(how i wish i could have)

but know now it was made

i can only wish him well

as he must soon establish

his own life in a world

made awkward if not dangerous

by interfering (wo)man

vehement

 tall, tall pines

side by side

their tops gesticulating

bending, twisting

arguing with the wind

Read & Ring

Bells of the Cascades Read & Ring

dashing through much handbell music

to get the tone and flavor

in case we would like our bell choir

to learn to play it under the direction

of Matthew Compton was fun

even to this bumbling slow reader

playing the handbells has become

a learning to be an integral part

of a whole, in this case,

a note or two in a beautiful instrument

Bells of the Cascades’ READ & RING

wildfire evacuation

car packed to take oldest

to camp when notifie

of level 3 evacuation

“We need to go – now!”

the two smaller boys climbed in

and they drove off, coming

west to us without preparation

without clothes, without albums

or vital papers or anything

they would not have wanted

to leave behind

if climate change is a hoax

it is well devised to create

wilder, more uncontrollable

scenes of devastation

if it is, instead, the result of human

stupidity, arrogance and greed

perhaps we can use wisdom

humbleness and far-sightedness

to bring our world back toward balance

it still kicks me in the gut

it still kicks me in the gut

24/7 caregiver, cook, linens maid

consoler, i answered their call

they wanted to bring a treat

for dad’s lunch but never thought

to bring even an extra cookie

for dad’s wife of twenty years

Dante’s Angels

Dante’s Angels by Diana K. Lubarsky

i re-read Lubarsky’s Dante’s Angels

and laughed aloud again and again

and chuckle-sobbed at places

i hadn’t picked up on the first time

i could write a script for these

marvelous old ladies, but what

i really want is to see is them

interacting and grumbling over

each other in a small playhouse

maybe with re-arrangement

of the scenes, i can bring their pain

the joys, their solace and their courage

to more of us looking our own finality

in its whiskered chin, if not its eye

wobble

how i wish climate change

were a hoax we could all

put aside and wait until earth

rights herself again

for all our assumption of power

we seem willfully unaware

of the toxic nature of many

of our ‘changes for the better’

even natural mutations are mostly

for the worse—and die out