Tuesday, June 30, 2020

20200630.0430

Sometimes it seems the only color I can see is red
Whether because the haze has descended again
Or that is the color of the lights that shine for me
And I will not say such have no place
But I miss the broader spectrum
Wish I could see the rainbow again

Monday, June 29, 2020

20200629.0430

I did not expect to enjoy the bratwurst so much
Though I confess
I gagged a bit when the greasy spray
Hit the back of my throat
Still
I swallowed it down
And the rest of the meat followed it

Sunday, June 28, 2020

20200628.0430

Life imitates art
A saying said many times
Passing all seasons
Mackay makes a claim of art
Wherein do we mimic it?

Saturday, June 27, 2020

20200627.0430

Lowering ceiling
Darkening over stained walls
Their brown trim greening
How long will the summer sun
Take to strip that color off?

Friday, June 26, 2020

20200626.0430

Excited as Aestas approaches
Ouranos cannot hold back
Spraying what he has had mounting up
Over Gaea's hills and valleys
And she does not seem to mind his excitement
At another form than hers as she moves under him

Thursday, June 25, 2020

20200625.0430

Did those who fired off the rounds
Now legendary for their size
Noted for their impact
And the craters they left behind them
Know their guns to have been so large
Or have they expanded in being the targets of
Massed fire themselves?

Wednesday, June 24, 2020

20200624.0430

Shooting round after round
Perhaps blindly downrange
Spraying and praying as the saying
Goes for such things
It is better that a smaller caliber round be loosed with
Each finger-motion
Than a larger round or load of shot

Tuesday, June 23, 2020

20200623.0430

How often I shoot from the hip
And place my shot on target,
But how much tighter a grouping when
I take the time to line up the shot
As I too rarely do,
Though I will still empty my magazine
At every opportunity!

Monday, June 22, 2020

20200622.0430

My Muse speaks to me in idle moments
Her words the whispers of wind in the leaves
Long brown on the ground no less than
Still green on the branch
And I struggle to account for all that I hear
Stenography not among my best skills

Sunday, June 21, 2020

20200621.0430

Sitting still might seem to be
The best balm to a body overworked
But the settled stone may shatter when
It must move again