Half awake- 

it may have been a mistake

to write all night.

Now, after work, 

I am home, 

prone,

only one eye open, 

like a sleeping dolphin

guarding against poems 

amassing and passing

without a “welcome in!” 

 “who goes there?”

without an offer 

of friendship or curiosity, 

depending on what temper, 

what splendor,

one eye open reveals!  

A pod of herring?

A passing sail boat off the fluke?

A shark marauding?  

A magical masterpiece?

Now I must be dreaming.

Where is the sun?
It’s 6 am.
September is rolling in
like a high speed bullet train.
All aboard!

missing my family
In Four Connecting Haikus

when family visits
notes flow into chords
a cappella song!

like migrating birds
congregating together
before flying home

off and on I feel
a sudden coldness a coat
cannot undue

I am a minor
melody remembering,
missing, major chords

chicadee chirping
outside the window at dusk
"empty feeder!"

I miss Lynnie Lynn because
I'm no longer a mashed potato
or a turkey or missie toe
and David's no longer a root beer float

I'm no longer a mashed potato
she, a rascally, ridiculous raccoon,
and David's no longer a root beer float
one of four musketeers is missing

she, a rascally, ridiculous raccoon,
who giggles and the whole room is smiling
one of four musketeers is missing
the one who helps her companions at their table

who giggles and the whole room is smiling
and she'd ask, "what are you going to do about me?"
the one who helps her companions at their table
she focuses when doing a 300 piece puzzle

and she'd ask, "what you doing to do about me?"
"We need to buy you another puzzle." I'd say
she focuses when doing a 300 piece puzzle
David and I are not blueberry muffins.

"We need to buy you another puzzle."  I'd say
I miss Lynnie Lynn because
David and I are not blueberry muffins
or turkeys or missie toes

Sometimes I look up
at apartments and wish
everyone had decks.

My pillow is indented, swirled
like a land-napping nautilus,
like a giant roly poly bug
of a cat.  Moon!

fear is spreading
like all the befores
and we are forgetting
the burried bones of millions
because we are magnets to fear

I write of hummingbirds, sky-loving gold finches,
a favorite tulip tree beside my house
and in my garden red-rose tomatoes
overflowing

while we are magnets to fear
and there are cages in my country and
children in them