Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Railroad Tracks

I got built ninety years ago by
sweating stinking swearing men.

For decades every kind of train
screeched on my back. No more.

Winters here can be pretty bleak
but wildflowers always come back.

Empty nests have a forlorn look
til the songbirds return in early May.

The swamp is quiet but soon frogs
will take up their monotonous chant.

My back remains unbroken but only
ghost locomotives rattle these rails.


From Ordinary Things: Poems From a Walk in Early Spring
Memory Loss

It’s not like losing a wallet,
or even your best friend.

Losing your memory is
losing yourself.

Each sentence Grandma speaks
makes me think of crossing a river.

She steps from word to word
until suddenly

she stops in the middle, disoriented.
Should she go back or keep going?

Mom takes Grandma by the hand
and helps her to the other side.


from A Writing Kid of Day: Poems For Young Poets

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

     Low-tide bonanza:
     a seagull slurping seaworms
     like squirming pasta  


Monday, April 24, 2017

Weeds


Weeds in the sunlight,
swaying in the breeze.

Weeds pollinated by
hordes of hungry bees.

Weeds softly whispering,
spilling secret seeds.

Weeds multiplying:
weeds, weeds, weeds.

                           Dandelion, ragweed,        
                           Queen Anne’s lace.

                           Weeds in my dreams,
                           weeds in outer space.

                           Weeds on vacation
but more staying home.
        
                           Sneaky little weedling
                           sprouting in this poem!

Friday, April 21, 2017

     
      Alabaster neck
      turns from graceful to lethal
      in one violent SPLASH! 

                                    from Flyku by Ralph Fletcher


Thursday, April 20, 2017



     Joined at the hip
     pelican and reflection
     swim in sky blue light.


                  from Flyku by Ralph Fletcher



Wednesday, April 19, 2017

I’m posting two poems today, one for
younger and one for older kids. 
The first one is a playful science poem.
The second one is from my book 
I Am Wings: Poems About Love.  

H2O

The recipe
         for water is
the same as
         it’s always been:

two parts
         hydrogen
one part
         oxygen.

Two-to-one
         that’s the rule
to make a water
         molecule.


First Kiss

I’ll never forget
that empty barn
smell of dry hay
those long columns
of dusty light

for one whole minute
you and I breathed
the same breath


Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Beach Baby

She’s one year old. One tooth. A total pudge.
She tries to get out of the water but her
soaked diaper must weight
ten thousand pounds
so all she can do  is
sit.

Later she sees me eating Cheese Puffs
and toddles over, towering above me,
a baby so giant she blocks out the sun,
sticks out her hand and yells: “MINES!”

Her mother hustles over, apologizes,
and hauls her back to their blanket.
Then the baby starts eating sand, grinning,
grinding the grains with that one tooth.


from my book Have You Been To The Beach Lately?