A wealth of poverty

There is a perverse form of poverty
where those who feel they do not have enough
are compelled to keep everything

Easy to spot
cars on the lawn
porch cluttered with long-unused items
all infused with the scent of fear or suspicion
that they may be needed again
someday

How evident the contradiction to be poor,
and stiffled and fenced in
by one's own possessions?




image from a Decatur, AL newspaper

The ineffable

Meandering down a rural highway in the midwest I came upon a sign.
Upon reading it, I had an immediate response - though I confess to having no idea why I had the reaction I did.
Make of it what you will.

Sign:

"Jesus is real! Repent!
If you died today where
would you spend eternity?"

Response:

"In your pants."

A Piece of Eastern Summers I Miss

Once I first saw fireflies
I wondered how poets could write about anything else.

Before the full blackness settles in
On a perfect warm night
That makes me feel like mostly naked is the best way to be
(I just can't hold on to anxiety in weather like that)

Where once was a swath of mottled darkness
To which my eyes were trying to adjust
A spark! Floating and fading

Not bothersome like the moth
Nor pestilent like the mosquito
The firefly hovers off a ways
Kind of friendly, clearly benign
And a magical part of the evening

Feeling a calm joy I go back inside
Reminded that there are many good things out there
That I can't see.




http://www.flickr.com/photos/postpurchase/825090080/

Hamsters

In a silly and exhuberant mood, I turned to my husband and declared

"There aren't nearly enough songs about hamsters!"

He responded,

"Go for it, honey."

He's the greatest.


Anyway, I can't recall all the lyrics I came up with at that moment, but there was something about treadmills, being cooler than gerbils, and this other part:

"Hamster, hamster, hamster, hamster
You say it often enough, it still sounds funny.
And hamsters just keep going..."

(This image from www.animals.vaty.net)

Come September no summer was ever long enough

Come September no summer was ever long enough.
I feel like racing the days to their end, juicing all the sun from each
Somehow storing or prolonging the carelessness that defines summer even as an adult
Rain brings separateness, holing up in homes, sealing windows to keep in heat
No casual connectedness with neighbors and strangers walking past our porch swing.
Soon will come the intimacy of visiting friends sharing meals and toasts
In a glowing room as we defy the cold rain outside - festival of lights!
But now neither fiesta nor feast
September is a hard month














A Wyoming hail storm