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Thursday, November 2, 2017

Observation - November 2nd, 2017, Thursday

At 4:00 am the street outside my window

Is bright with electric light, Bryant Avenue

The refrigerator is noisy, click, rattle, hum

The floors have a different squeak to them

Deeper along the joists, a bus rolls by #4

Kitty is on her blanket, taking in her view

The wind in the maple blowing, leaves

Gathered by the stairs, there are no rabbits

On Bryant, but there are chip monks

With their striped fur, they are sleeping


She is waiting for them to wake

Monday, October 2, 2017

Observation - October 2nd, 2017, Monday

Observation

There was lightning, and the bright crack of thunder.
At 2:00 am, my cat came to sleep under arm,
Rain was fall hard against the house, against my windows.
Thunder rolling across the city, otherwise dark and quiet.

The news was of a shooting in Las Vegas.
A man with an automatic rifle shooting from an elevated position in to a crowd.
Twenty or more people killed, one hundred more injured.
The shooter himself had been found and killed by the police.
The Sheriff is not giving details.

America is on fire, and breaking apart at the margins.
Storms pound our coasts, and millions of people are flooded;
Without homes, without power, without medicine, without clean water.
The occupant of the oval office is playing golf, and whining.

America is on fire.

Saturday, September 2, 2017

Observation - September 2nd, 2017

Observation

It is cool in the house
The cool of early September, it will give way
To warmth in the day, then dissipate

There is ragweed in the air
The pollen is scratching my throat
Raking my sinuses, my head is pounding

The phlox outside my kitchen window
Bears the softest tone, a shade of matted fuchsia  
Rising against the cedar fence

My cat is sleeping on her blanket
Her tawny gray head resting on her soft white paw

The streets are quiet 

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Observation - August 2nd, 2017, Wednesday

It was dark, deep dark
In the middle of the night
The witching hour passed

My cat is sleeping
She is curled up on her chair
She does little else

There is a rattle
Noises come from the upstairs
The house is creaking

A car rolls past, bass
Booming down the avenue
The bars have let out

I woke too early
I came to my desk to write

My fingers tapping

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Observation - July 2nd, 2017, Sunday

Observation

The light is soft in the morning.

The house is quiet…the city is quiet.

People have left town for the holiday that is coming.

It is Sunday morning, and there is parking available on the street in front of my house.

The birds are talking to each other.

My lady is still asleep behind the closed door of the bedroom.

Kitty is in the big window watching the wind blow through wisteria.

The smell of gunpowder still lingers in the air,

            The residue of 2:00 am revelry.

Friday, June 2, 2017

Observation - June 2nd, 2017, Friday

The morning sun is streaming in through my kitchen window

Reflecting off a stack of boxes against my book case

The morning sun is bright, and flashing

The day promises to be sunny hot

There is a for sign in the yard next to the sidewalk

It says for sale

I anticipate the footfall of strangers

Walking through my domicile

There are transition coming, I can see them

My cat is sleeping blissfully

Unaware


Tuesday, May 2, 2017

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

Monday, April 10, 2017

Observation, April

Observation, April

The April sun streams
Today is a month for fools
And birds clamoring

Gravity bends sunlight
Striking soft, the rounded world
It is cool outside

Kitty is sleeping
Twitching, dreaming of bird friends
Feathered play and bones

Withered apples fall
Dark red fruit cast to the ground
As small as cherries

#NPRpoetry
#Poetry
#Haiku

#April

Sunday, April 2, 2017

Observation - April 2nd, 2017, Sunday



There is laughter peeling from behind the closed door.

The sun is climbing behind a soft gray sheet of clouds.

The talking heads are chirping about treason, and lies.

The robins are chirping for each other, oblivious, free.