Early Days

Recombinant garden in
Mingled ends, starts --
A function of character
Among magical arts-- and
An enchanted riddle living
In the middle, giving, giving.

Missing Jones and Y2K

When I was a boy of fifty,
Jones the cat would find
My lap wherever I sat and
Share his habitual nap --
His posture toward existence.
And, at his insistence, 
I too would slip consciousness.
We were friends, I guess.

Gardening Problems: What To Do!

What to do when
Half the galaxy gets
Snagged in your olive tree:
Relax, examine peripheries
For what tangles let
Fall  and roll free.
It's small, very very
Like a glowing berry
Escaped from its spoon.
Pick it up, it is the moon. 
Throw it way up high.
The stars will chase it
Up, up into the sky.

 

Moontree

There is a moontree on
Our property that only 
Grows one, then it's done,
According to need-- the
Rest  goes  to  seed.
You see, when the moon
Wears out --but hasn't
Yet-- one is all one gets.
We will not go without.

She Photos

                                                            [Normaphoto]                                                                    
She photos  frost
On tabletops and
Days stunned  in
Frozen  sunshine
Out  the window.

                                                                   [Normaphoto]

Fog Shovelers

In mind, invisible
Fog shovelers scrape
A path clear and pile
Divisible mist on
Either side, allowing
Me, defined as here.
I am following behind
This, and upon that
Path, decide to go
And pursue order.
What lies past its
Borders, I don't know.

Twitter

                                     [Normavid of a chippering chorus --crank up volume]

Sudden colonies in 
Low branches-- 
Bushtits, finches-- 
Full of discussion, 
Oration, midwinter 
Debate 'til late 
Afternoon; each 
Chirp opening new 
Warbles ahead 
Of a rising moon.