Observation - November 5th, 2020, Tuesday

 Coffee on the terrace of the penthouse

 

Morning on 49^th Street, Radio City

 

Rockefeller Plaza, a few hundred feet away

 

Columns of concrete, glass and steel push up into the powder blue sky

 

Green-copper spires reflected in mirrors one thousand feet tall

 

Their soft patina wavering in the sunlight

 

 

A curious pigeon comes to greet me

 

 

The sounds of the city are pressing

 

A steady drone of HVAC permeates the atmosphere

 

Sirens wail and saws whine, over the drone of engines

 

As the arhythmic clang of steel on steel fills the air with hollow waves

 

While all around me hammers fall

 

The city hums with a ghostly bustle

 

 

 

Observation - May 5th, 2020, Tuesday

It is a bright morning

There is a plane flying overhead, though the city is quiet

There is a robin chirping in the tree outside my window

My lady is working at loom, weaving on a hoop

Kitty is begging for butter

Seventy thousand Americans will have died

From complications due to COVID-19

By the end of today

The news is increasingly grim

There are politicians telling us to prepare

Be ready to lose more

Americans must be ready to sacrifice

Like they did in World War II

This time we march into the jaws of a faceless beast

To feed an economy, that is hungry for our lives

As valuable as kibble, scattered on the floor

Observation - June 4th, 2019, Tuesday

There is the soft light of morning in late spring

The solstice is approaching, summer will soon be in full swing

A bus rumbles by the window, the number 4, rolling down Bryant

The noise filters in through the window screen, with a cool breeze.

Kitty licks a spot of butter from her paw

A dog is barking on his morning walk

People are stirring on their way to work

The birds have grown quiet for the rush hour

Observation - July 3rd, 2018, Tuesday

Observation

Kitty stretches her front paw

A sparrow cut across the plane of view from the front window

Cool clear light bends through the wavy glass

It is quiet in the morning

The cup filled with coffee is warm in my hand

A breeze on my neck from the black plastic fan

Observation - April 3rd, 2018, Tuesday

Everything is covered in snow

            

             A thick sheet of ice

Clings to the ground beneath it

            The treachery of April

Cold, seeping through the window

            Plows scrape the street

Outside, the green lawn is buried

            Robin, into the nest retreats

Observation - May 2nd, 2017, Tuesday

Observation

It is 4:00 am, and dark in the morning

The house is cold and quiet

It is wet outside, after days of rain

And snow

Kitty is curled up on the back of her chair

Her white chin resting on her white paws

I can hear her breathing

The low rumble as she shifts and turns

She ignores the news cast I am watching

More interested in the clicking of my fingers

            Typing

March 1st, 2016, Tuesday - Observation

Observation

The snow is mostly gone.

The sky was lighting at six in the morning; when I left for work.

There was a fresh dust of white on the ground, that disappeared in the first few hours of morning.

The green is coming to my lawn, pushing past the pale yellow blades, the gray and brown remnants of leaves, the twigs fallen from the apple tree.

My cat followed the white tail of rabbit with her eyes; as she rested on the couch, by the window bay, lucid, and dreaming of the hunt.

It is election day in Minnesota, caucus day, and there is a pensive energy in the air.

I am for Hillary, but I think most of my town is for Bernie.

I think Minnesota will go hard left as well.

My cat does not care, she wants to share my chicken.