Tag: poetry

the must-have shot

short on brains and bug spray,

i waltzed into the bog;

i had to get a picture of

the dead trees in the fog,

when suddenly, the sky was filled

with skeeters, through and through;

they got into my ears and nose–

behind my glasses, too!

and as I did the swatting dance,

i must have looked so weird

with those crumpled

little corpses strewn

across my once-white beard,

and yet i got the must-have shot

despite the bugs and mud–

and the feeling like i was low

a quart or two on blood,

so now, on my adventures,

i bring bug spray by the ton,

for i won’t soon forget the morn

that skeeters almost won.

–photos by me

summer breeze

walking, talking

we find ourselves

hand in hand

on a shoreline stroll;

lapping, slapping

the waves set up

an ancient rhythm

that stirs the soul;

splattering, spattering

wildflowers are drops

that fell when nature

painted in the spring;

rushing, gushing

the summer breeze is

the breath of life here

connecting everything

–photo by me

Another Day

I woke up this morning to the sound of steady rain on the roof and was disappointed because I had plans to tackle some outside chores I’d been putting off. I pulled out my untrusty laptop and started scrolling through the news, all the while hoping the rain would end so I could get out there. Well, the rain kept on and on, and it was making me feel anxious. At length, I found myself getting dressed and heading out the door; I did all the chores in the rain, and it was–wonderful!

another day breaks

and what will we do?

our desires are many;

our resources, few.

perhaps if we can

stop desiring to bend

the ways of the world

to our personal end,

we’d find ourselves free

to be satisfied

just being alive

and along for the ride.

–photo by me

run home, little sister

storm’s a comin’,

best be runnin’

home, little sister–

tell ma to take

the clothes down

off the line,

and pa should roll

the windows up

on the ’29;

have gramma check

the wireless to hear

what this’ll bring,

and grampa–well,

don’t tell that

ol’ coot anything.

–photo by me

wolf dream

i dreamed that wolves were chasing me

as through the woods i ran,

and when i couldn’t keep on going,

i turned to make my stand,

but now the wolves had disappeared

as far as i could see;

and standing there, i realized–

the only wolf was me!

–photos by me