broder soder

a huge troll of wooden slats

with clawed hands and personality

large brown eyes and the curiosity

to be lifting the roof off a tiny house

to peer at the occupants—

my daughters and me  

Exhalation sensitivity

our insightful sensitivity reader

sent her report on the 4th novel

in my NANDRIA series

her words of encouragement include

acknowledgement of portraying

white and Black characters

“authentically” as rounded individuals

rather than stereotypes

which was, of course, what i was trying

to do as a bridge to our seeing

each other as persons

magno conatu

there is a phrase in Latin

quoted by Sir Francis Bacon

magno conatu nugas

“with great effort, trifles”

which sums up why i am often angry

with poets and story tellers and persons

when i’ve taken time and effort to read

their words, expressions, actions

for their underlying meaning

only to uncover something i knew

as a child

it is difficult then to ask myself

who i think i am and am i sure

i do not overlook the obvious

Friday the 13th

 Friday the 13th

with sauntering, young Kevin Bacon

and Betsy Palmer’s smile

of rectangular white teeth

the first time i’ve seen the film

for horror is not my genre

yet my Writer in the Grove friend

had so much inside information

of how it was made and problems

that occurred during and after

production, including a critic calling

for hate mail for a female star

i could analyze the script’s construction

and effects and give begrudging credit

for the horror, i’ve seen enough

as a physician – i don’t need to add

such repugnance in make-believe

placebo physician

 ‘placebo’ is Latin for ‘I will please’

as a physician i have wondered why

my simply listening to some patients

has brought them more relief than

prescriptions or treatments

until finally i began to realize

that  i was not curing anyone

that the best i could for anyone

was to set as many factors as i could

in their favor so that something greater

than either of us could heal them

when persons experience being heard they listen to themselves as well

and often hear their own priorities

and see where they are caught

in traps of delusion or fear

how often i was placebo, listening

but it was not me who pleased

but acted merely as conduit

to that individual’s recognition

of strengths within

tender rain

tender rain, not so much falling

as gliding downward to caress

desiccated leaf and blade

in comforting slaking of thirst

engorgement and, eventually,

grateful, green satiety

even though i am older

so many took time to wish me well

yesterday that the warmth glowed

and i felt seen and loved

this morning i am remembering

what a treasure it si to reach out

with a word of friendship

toddler scooting

haiku

a toddler scooting

away, laughing, from her mom

all life is a game

words of the wise

one of the hateful parts

of lingering COVID

is the feeling of incompetence

of not thinking quickly or clearly

and the depression that spreads

into all that we had been able to do

and thus, the loss of joy

in the little things that delighted us

so, it will take determination to continue

in motion, a step at a time

a willingness to walk when we’d rather

stay curled up in our misery

a willingness to lie down to sleep

when we know only babies take naps

the grit to listen to and honor the needs

of our bodies as we put everything

into allowing ourselves to heal

adult, really?

how can a fourteen-year-old

be tried as an adult when he has been

raised by a father who defends

him at thirteen after being contacted

by police for possibly being the one

who threatened a school shooting

and then gives him an assault rifle

as a Christmas present?

when did he ever have an adult

to model himself after?

snapping trees

trees snap when the wind hits

ninety-four miles per hour

strangely, the type of tree, height

thin or thick factors cancel

each other out leaving the speed

of the wind as the determining factor

nearly all split under

the same degree of stress

dave

 a giving person

tall, masculine but warm

thoughtful and caring about kids

how they feel, how they grow

to see the good in life

and learn to laugh in love and faith

virus vs me

tiny virus topples huge habitation

me

virus which is not fully a live being

wins

by taking over the functions of my cells

conquering

cell-by-cell in transmuting sneak attacks

until

i feel so crummy i leave the field and go to

bed

fog murmurs

light fog hides the Pacific

rolling in quiet and muffling sounds

of normal day activities to distortion

until even early afternoon has a chill

a haunted feel and buckled deformation

that murmurs a garbled transformation

to a world we only thought we knew

pinks of dawn

haiku

unique pinks of dawn

carry the warmth of hope and

promise to renew

meanwhile

waiting, again, for response

from those commissioned

to critique, prepare for publication

offer staging directions

for the fourth Nandria novel

and the play between father and son

while i edit and proof

i need to be thinking about the next

stage play project that will challenge

my words and the pictures

in my head

seed within the words

 at times there is a seed

within the words

a core of the meaning

i am trying to reach

‘though what is on paper

does not say it as yet

sometimes i can find it

and re-work the order

of the words, or change one

or a dozen to get closer

other times i need hours

or days of letting the words

mewl in my mind until they

sort themselves into truth

or at least as close to it

as i am capable of coming

for the time being

shrinking

what i would do

but i do not

what i would say

but go silent

what i would give

but withhold or finagle

to donate less

each opportunity

find me smaller

forest stream

trickled run-off filtering between roots

of forest trees, seeking lower ground

finding tiny rivulets rich with soil bits

tumbling over pebbles, searching out paths, joining to form a crick, then creek

lower and lower into a stream where

my love and i lie on grassy bank

drinking in sounds of tinkling, slithering  dipping, crashing glistening waters moaning, singing, defying, bullying

plummeting to fulfill gravity’s charge and we, laughing, hold each other

joyous to be part of the sentient and non-sentient order that includes us

however reluctantly

little drains

little things that happened

never resolved, not quite forgiven

nagging bits that seem to be gone

until something else stirs the memory

and the irritation roils as though

a current event – the breath sharpens

the jaw clenches, the self-talk speaks

within my being, ragging what i

should have said to justify

my vindictive anger

and my hurt still draining my joy

and my relationship