Optimissed

brew the coffee hoping

that today will be

the day -

wondering if the miracle

is on its

merry way.

stare out the kitchen window

as the night begins

to fall –

wondering if the miracle

is having hope

at all.

Repose

There’s a glint of sun that glows

on a patch of grass that grows

where the earth is damp and broken

where the slug and sowbug goes

As December crashed and froze

January thumbed her nose -

March slips rings upon my fingers

and ties bells onto my toes

Somewhere lily laughs with rose

sewing jewels on their clothes

turning green eyes towards the bluebells

coyly tying on their bows

Scenes repeated, I suppose,

in spectacular tableaus

all around a world yawning

buds and birds as bright hellos

February, in her throes

spat me out upon her floes –

March’s outstretched wing descended

just before the rats and crows

Someday I’ll get there to those

valleys, mountains and plateaus

where the arc of every petal

outshines all our poems and prose

but today, I’m glad to doze

in this patch of grass that grows

smelling sweet earth, damp and broken

where a glint of sunlight glows.