argue

i hear the pines
beg to differ
with cross winds

darn finch

always one
to see the cage door
left scarcely open
seen hovering outside
the wire as though
wanting to return
but wary of being
caught and remarkably
quick at
getting away

seven-ear-old sees flood

seven-year-old
riding in the back seat
north on the newly re-opened I-29
devastated by mile after mile
of new lake
and drowned farm equipment
and flood water
to the second story of barns
and homes
whimpers quietly
“I don’t wanna see
any more, Mommy.
Make it go away. Please”

drab magnificence

huge wingspan
lifting at elbow, then shoulder
brown-gray drab
lighter beige head
an eagle
modified to invisibility
in sitting in nest
warming, protecting
eggs of new life
still, even in her
subtle mode,
magnificent
lifting into flight

react

i startle to sounds
sharp, loud or unexpected
i jump
almost as high
as when something
slithers at my feet
ready for fight
or, nearly always, flight

weeds

weeds, like children
have no other duties
nothing to distract
them from taking over
my ordered lawn
or world

beyond my vision

the saplings grow
partially obscuring
the horizon i sought
the children grow
seeing beyond
what i only dreamed

boy in the moon

smudged by dark clouds
the moon’s cheeks
glow through like
those of a grimy-faced imp
conjuring up his next
sly trick

oceanside

hours by the gray sea
listening, watching
the turmoil of raging
roiling white water
boiling up from unknown
agitation
those hours of observation
granting me, strangely,
peace

gotcha

scythe, weed-eater, mower
man wages his will
rooted plants
enact revenge
hayfever