poem of the day September 30 

A weaving wind

on an overgrown field

The give and take

of  matter and energy

The beautiful play

of push and pull

A living canvas

rolls along as I watch

the nature of a natural impressionist  

as she paints a New England afternoon

 poem of the day September 29

Some heat

Some cold

in the battle 

of night and day

I see the cool of dawn

has paused on a lawn

that waits for the warm

of a sun soon coming its way

 poem of the day September 28 

A yellow fog

slowly spreads over

a maple branch

hinting of change

like before a trip

where one goes 

everywhere and nowhere 

in a sublime anticipation 

 poem of the day September 27 

I called him Jerry

for twenty years
Till I found out
his name is Dick

I never imagined

Dick was not a Jerry

So next time I saw him 

I shouted "Dick I've been 

calling you Jerry 

for all these years

Why didn't you correct me

over a couple of beers?"

Dick thought for a while

then he started to smile

"You're the only one who

ever calls me Jerry

So when I hear 

someone shout Jerry

I know it John 

not Fred or Terry"

It was then that I realized

there was a reason to this story

for Dick to remember my name 

I had to call him Jerry

 poem of the day September 26 

To what sea

have we arrived

All shipwrecked sailors

had lost their eyes

It was hard to steer

this world of hate

as waves battered

across inner shores

With obstacles

full of siren sounds

that tried to poison 

those still around

 poem of the day Spetember 25 

The slip

of the moon

before the light of dawn

is a nice smile

A nice early gift 

from a reflective sun

waiting to rise

 poem of the day September 24 

A taste of cold

in early fall

The fragileness

of life and death

A battle stand

of Tomato rows

I see this dawn

their souls still grow

 poem of the day Spetember 23 

Regardless

of how often

I check my watch

Day after Day

it just keeps 

happening

Time becomes

yesterday

without 

even once

thinking

of me

I wonder if

any of you

are having

the same

unrequited 

experience

 poem of the day September 22

The Achilles heel
of a hoarder 

You know
Is that

everything has
some kind  

of Value
So the dilemma 

of whether to 

keep or throw away

is an easy choice

for a hoarder 

They say

 poem of the day September 21 

A double moon

appeared in 

the late dark 

early morning sky

An aberration sign

from the heavens

Or was I dreaming

out the window

with a mind expanded

by the light of two reflections? 

 poem of the day September 20 

Flowers have 

their daily lives

Late sun of dusk

so crisp & clear

Clearer than

their time at dawn

Where petals viewed

full and big

appear fog swollen

in early light

 poem of the day september 19 

Small changes

of color 

creep into the

New England canopy 

Transparent hues of

Red and Gold pixie dust

merge within

late September green

like an opaque tide 

I wonder if the trees

know what awaits

as the leaves of summer

march toward fate

 poem of the day September 18 

There are those days

We all have them

where the pull of time

opens doors long past

Allowing memories

to be remembered 

deep, richly adorned 

in the healing patina of yesterday

 poem of the day September 17 

Smiles and Frowns

inverse circles

of the same soul

of the same universe

are the inner barometer 

in which to gauge

the ongoing  war between

happiness and depression

 poem of the day September 16

Evening inertia

so hard

to overcome

after a busy day

of working in 

the daily clog

This lack of motion

fueled by exhaustion

becomes a heavy weight

pinning the lazy

to their favorite couch 

making hard to do much 

except change channels

 poem of the day September 15 

Looking at the house plants

on this Mid-September day

Wondering if they know

how much their lives will change

That their summer camping

in the great outdoor is almost over

and soon they will be back inside

as Jack Frost soon will be on his way

 poem of the day September 14 

A driving rain

with drops 

as big as life

pours into

the soul 

of a tin roof

reminding me

of a fleet of trumpets

playing soggy notes

fast and furious 

full of wet fire

like time crashing

into a mirror of itself

 poem of the day September 13 

Powder

A power

that has

been

pulverized

into dust 

and 

like ashes

waits at the station

beneath the veil 

for the next available 

merry-go-round

 poem of the day September 12 

Clouds at night

hold the earth

in comfort 

like good hands

do us all

The night fog

allows the stars 

to look down

with arms around the mother

warm to the touch of the receptive 

 poem of the day September 11 

It was Deja Vu

A summer happening 

that reminded me 

of  Hippie Hour

at the Washington Cafe

The Mad Professor had on his red beret 

Madame Ruby mingled in her gypsy dress

while the Potato Ladies held court around

the potluck table in tie dyes from 1967 

It seemed like every old Leftly 

Every old Flower Child 

Every old Hippie from the 60's

had turned out for the 76th birthday celebration

of the radical whited bearded minister

who was in his kitchen pontificating

on the successes of the 60's revolution,

A revolution that had now sadly passed by

I had to leave the grand affair early before

the hippie hour band played 

but could not keep from thinking how the Summer of Love

had changed America for the better

I was still  immersed in this warm inner glow

as I was walking the familiar path full

of my revolutionary ideas  

When my thoughts were shattered

by a big loud pickup driving by

with a Stop the Steel sticker

I froze in fear that we were now

in fertile grounds for new revolution 

Realizing this revolution based on lies are not the radical change

needed for the common good of a nation 

 poem of the day September 10 

The garden appears night mature

under a light that's almost full

The dragonflies do what they do

The harvest moon September 2022

 poem of the day September 9 

hints

foreshadowings

premonitions

suggestions

innuendos 

signals

of the future

delusion

wishful thinking

perhaps somewhere

everything exists

in a deck of cards

 poem of the day September 8 

Everybody

explores

the universe

The world outside

The amazement of

Gazing at stars

Ocean waves

Sunrise and sunsets

But very few

explore their inside

Their own bodies

content to see 

only the wonderment 

living beyond their skin

not the wonder

of what lies within

 poem of the day September 7 

high tides

lift all boats

except for those

that have 

already sunk

 poem of the day September 6 

Watching bluebirds

in the rain
A whole family
sitting on the branches
of a dead apple
The bluebirds don’t
seem to mind
the wet shower
even though
there is a chill in the air
I wonder if they are

just happy to be bathing
away all the dry dust
of a rainless summer

 poem of the day September 5 

What if there

was no rhythm?

No circles

Only straight lines

that never repeated

any pattern of anything

Would we still have rituals?

Would days go on one after another

with no thought of weeks, months, years

Would life and death just be the same universe?

 poem of the day September 4 

I had no idea

how much interest

there would be in 

the toughness

of September 

tomato skins

But here is

my BLT report 

Because of my

unrefined untrained

tomato pallet 

I mostly tasted bacon

and unfortunately 

was not able

to detect the subtle

differences in

tomatoes skins

but nevertheless

I can report

with good clarity

just the addition of

any tomato enhances

a BLT which was

very very delightful

 poem of the day September 3 

My grandfather

loved tomatoes

but always said they

were not as good

or as tender

or as tasty

after September first

He said the cold weather made

tomato skins tough

Were no longer perfection

and should be made into sauce 

After this poem I am going to have

a BLT and check his theory out

 poem of the day September 2  

Sometimes

a bumpy road

full of potholes

and pitfalls 

are easier 

to navigate

easier to see

right from wrong

than a freshly paved

highway covered

with the ideas of others

 poem of the day September 1 

There's a cricket

playing a tune

And I think 

he lives

in the maple room

Near the Buddha

of gold from far away

Who sits there in lotus 

to hear the cricket play