frayed margins

frayed margin between

world and world

waters and land

gill and bubbled air

vacuum and atmosphere

electric and magnetic fields

solar wind and conflagration

sentient and non-sentient

conscious and unconscious

what we know of life and

why we exist within the universe

autumn in august

 a week now of mist, cool nights

morning dew bedecking spider webs

sparkling between blades of grass

until mid-morning

from green, leaves’ shifts of orange

then crumpled brown without even

trying on reds or yellows

let alone spectacular pinks, lavenders

or comely blues in which to greet

growling thunder or lightning’s

quick brilliance, with or without

fire-suppressing rains

yet forecast promises sweltering

heat’s return though probably not again

july’s triple digit dome of oppression

gentle oregon’s moderation unsure

as though it could no longer

read the calendar

z finch perturbed

trembling warm within my fingers

little zebra finch struggles

and then goes still

only showing signs of regaining

life when i set him back

into the newly cleaned cage

if only he could survive on his own

i would set him free to fly

into the vastness of blue

but he was hatched from egg

to cage and knows only the birdseed

i have fed him all his life

i watch as he stand, shaking a moment

then flutters up to high perch

and in a moment scolds

before partaking of seed and fresh water

bouncer

plantations of rubber trees

oozing thick liquid

assumed riches, hard-fought

in jungle’s sweaty labor

illnesses and terrors

but worth it all for wealth

until laboratory synthesis

created material with rubber’s

assets plus close supervision

of production and needed variations

plantations of rubber trees

left unattended in the jungle

by sweaty, malarial-infected

disillusioned get-rich men

whisper against stone

whisper against stone

whisper against stone

yodel down a canyon

your thoughts, your words

your song is clashed, buffeted

fragmented and echoed in mutated

form to the sentient and non-sentient

who or which listen or ignore

or are indifferent to what

you have tried to convey

who or which are curious , or not

about who or what you are

except if you may prove a danger

that may rock their world

the world that cares, or not

absorbs or ricochets, takes note

or continues its own existence

whisper against stone

and believe what you will

how important you are to the universe

bonding

family stories told to laughter

at table shared by every household

bringing something – mac-n-cheese

corn on the cob, salad, roasted

fresh vegetables, drumsticks

veggie lasagna, corn chips, donut holes

and afterwards the young court clerk

playing strategy games with the boys

while old and younger adults

sat in the living room

overlooking the waves to relate

more memories of different generations

living in the trials of their times

making them human as we relate

to their feasts, triumphs, fears

strengths and contributions

to our family and each other

                                8/18/2024  Blue house

find One

the woman with bewildered eyes

the youth with sunken cheeks

the man with angry menace

ready to explode

the wisp of a girl pleading

without a word

each with a story

each longing for recognition

yet inspiring fear

and met with hurried looks away

as though their burdens

are too much for even two to bear

until they have found One

who understands and cares

filter

filter your worldview through empathy

cushion your reactions through compassion

pause before assigning blame or judgement

to ask yourself how much you truly know

despite the ranting

despite the ranting and foul language

on our ‘entertainment’ media

the sound of children laughing

can bring me back to joy

and belief in the goodness

of persons

wake up call

black tea with chai powder

multi-grain toast

with a hint of honey

ah, that is the way

to wake up a morning

blue-gray settles

smokey from wildfires and the haze of late summer

so a blue-gray settles from the air to our emotions

summit Mt. St. Helens

eight-year-old Adelaide
smiles atop the mountain
she had just conquered
proud father and grandfather
grinning at her
reveling in her grit and determination

WiGs during Festival of the Arts

 Writers in the  Grove astound me

with their generosity in listening

and encouraging other writers

Their four Wednesdays participating

in Forest Grove’s Festival of the Arts

this past summer teaching, sharing

showing their own work

setting up the Open Mic

laughing, gently suggesting

admitting when they do not know

helping to find solutions

being warm and accepting when

others are vulnerable in reaching out

Writers in the Grove is one amazing

group of gracious individuals

Thank you!

post-COVID

so tired after COVID

but blessed that that is the only

real sign or symptom remaining

what an intriguing virus

with many manifestations

some debilitating

for me, merely fatigue after doing

very little, but slowly i recover

so, “Look out, World!”

soften the blow

soften the blow

couch the criticism in suggestion

respect the integrity

let a child know he is loved

despite his falling short

let him grow on strong foundation

Page-Pritchard at Golden Valley

three generations of Pages

two of Pritchards, but those two

loving the interaction with Rob III’s

little curly-haired daughters

the extended family is spread out

across the nation and seldom able

to sit down together to dine and talk

renewing and extending the love

of cousins since childhood

Elsie

Grandma Elsie, slender, unassuming

with her quiet ways but wise

peeking eyes in sharp observation

and gentle, compassionate laugh

with those of us caught in human

shortcomings now within two years

of a century of living never luxurious

but always ready to help

loving legacy she knows in family

bonding and Harmon generosity

we do matter

Grayish again with long-traveled

smoke from fires in Canada,

Washington and California.

When will we learn that the Earth’s

systems are something our greed

can and does affect

to our great grief?

no complaints

i complain as the promised view

of meteor showers again

is smothered in summer haze

and smoke from distant wildfires

as though such deprivation of a sight

were as devastating as the loss

of farm, ranch buildings, homes

livestock and human life to those

again threatened in California

Washington, Colorado and my Oregon