response

your call is important to us

text to us that you fear going to school

not for bullying or humiliation

but for the close sound of gunfire

whimper that you and small siblings

huddle to sleep in your car and have no

access to running water, let alone

shower or clean clothes

cry out in the night that the adults

around you are stoned, drunk

or threatening to desire you

our next available representative

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 light snow at 32 degrees

at 34, snow-rain that then freezes

to ice what has already fallen onto

our hill, a paved logging road

with impossible slopes even 4-wheel

drive and chains find challenging

so i’ve been writing and reading

wrapped up in fluffed blankets

huddled in my home living on

canned goods and fruit stocked

up a week ago at meteorologists’

warnings of severe winter storms

a new, limited lifestyle that calls

from within me a rare perspective

of proper humility in the grip

of Nature as she wills

orange

haiku

burnished copper gleams

embers of dying fire

warming spiced cider

crusty old vets

 crusty old vets may have their reasons

as we send their youth off to war

not behind their fearless leaders, but shielding those who bid them wallow

in mud and trudge to shoot, sling fire, set off bombs, step on an IED which fragments and mutilates their buddy for all it’s being improvised

human flesh being vulnerable to explosive devices, friend or enemy

and when they return maimed in body

or soul their care is not commensurate

with promised glory, the system

devised, being expensive, is subject to

budget cuts by those same leaders

who stayed behind to devise more

policy of war

auditory irritation

flute playing what would be

an alto line of repeated note

breaks through my concentration

and bids me turn off the radio – now!

pink snow

tint of pink light over the snow

like a filmy negligee over bared shoulder as sunrise hints

at change from full moon’s eerie blue-silver cast

i chuckle to remember tiny granddaughter’s declaration

of “pink snow” many springs ago

as we walked among blossoming plum trees

stay at home

gentle chill inside

outside arctic cold, icy rain crusting snow adding glittering brilliance

but also added incentive to remain

indoors

whiner in chief

whining self-pity

leaves no will to stand or fight

little urge to grow

speckled cloud

haiku

speckled clouds stutters

twists, curves in new direction

starling on the move

whitened

haiku

sip hot chocolate

gaze at the glaze of white cover

first snow of winter

gift of courage

awakening in fear

not of the test itself

but of its implications

awakening to find

a joyous card from my daughter

professing love i know to be

her daily gift to me

despite the years of pain

she has endured

i will borrow

a bit of her courage and take

the test and its results

as they are

toe-stubbing comeuppance

haiku

toe-stubbing raw hurt

not pain but able to hack

my sense of courage

Vehmic

 judges and jurors secret

and beyond the law but sworn

to champion justice and render

swift punishment to oath-breakers

in the name of the holy roman emperor

positive they knew the guilty

winter sea gray

haiku

winter sea gray, not

with malice but upheaval

renewing for spring

Oregon Coast, Lincoln City

January is always tremendous in white and gray.

gambol v gamble

whatever i give her

she gives back more

i give because i want her to have

what she needs to secure her future

she gives to tell she loves

her generosity is making sure you know you are cared about and for

while my concern is with far-off time

she gambols in the immediate present

wishing fairy tales were reality

reading fairy tales by brothers Grimm

and Hans Anderson and folk stories

delighted by the imagination creating

people out of animals and objects

anthropomorphism has a way

of capturing our own delight

of wishing there were tiny people

to inhabit childhood world to be

our friends and explain what we

cannot understand about adults

and how to fit into their strange world

questions I’d still like to be answered

lo, these many years living

among grown-ups 

waste not

my parents’ early secret marriage gouged by the Great Depression

what they’d worked years to accomplish

wiped away as promised positions

disintegrated in industrial collapse

nursing posts unavailable

to married women

everything that could be was re-used, repaired, given new life

as money simply was not

within grasp of hand

raised as i was in their hard-earned

philosophy, i eat everything on my plate

and take home scraps in a ‘doggy bag’

wasting good food was sin-like

so, much of the fried ice cream left on

the restaurant table after our celebration

was painful for me to see, but, thank

the lord, not for my family who still

believe in abundance

blessed beyond words

blessed beyond words

i draw my arms around me

as my husband can no longer

and thank the beauty and joy

that fills me to overflowing

ready to begin again to try

to capture in written rhythm

and feeling moments of life

with its coercions

and limitless promise

full moon entangled

full winter moon entangled

in yellowish, green-gray, eerie clouds

fighting with brilliance to be free

of the fear those hoverers over earth

engender in mere mortals looking up

helping heal

so young to contend

with a disease that is robbing

her of sight

and now beloved father’s fight

with cancer lost

holidays have only so much magic

that moments beside Pacific’s turbulent surf enhance

but nothing yet

can heal the wounds