Anytime, out on the road,
he feels that the crazy,
aggressive way people
drive is a symptom of the
anxiety experienced every-
where throughout the
country since the election
in November 2016 of the
crazy, aggressive guy who
has set all teeth on edge.

Nothing beats being there.
The camper had to be moved
For the wood chopper to get
In the driveway, so they just
Went on a camping trip
And let the tree trimmer
Have at it. Unfortunately,
He had at the wrong branch.
The man distinctly remembers
Saying, “the branch that angles
To the right.”
The tree trimmer said, “Hmm.”
Nothing beats being there.

I have mixed feelings about
eliminating any reference to
demons from our past.
It seems to me that we need
to name them
to eliminate them
and perhaps continue to see them
as a reminder of what harm
they have done in our past.
Perhaps, put them in a museum
where school children can see them
and know where we never ever
want to go again.
We need reminders
because we have blinders
and short memory reminders
of the horrible places we
have been.

While I sat on the porch,

a black-capped chickadee
came and sat beside me

not knowing that a larger
bird was already in the tree.

He bolted and flew for cover
to the white pine tree.

Then a humming-bird came
beside me and drank deeply

of an orange Zinnia’s nectar
but there was no one to
come and heckle her.

She’s just flighty by nature
and perhaps afraid that I
might wish to catch her,

but I was content just to sit
and watch all the birds flit
here and there and everywhere

while I sat on the porch.

Masterpiece is back.
Mysteries we’ve waited for.
Murders to be solved.

Sunday evening
is best for all our viewing.
Thanks to the British.

Such suspense is great
to be witnessed, not much gore —
intrigue all the more.

He snapped his towel gently
at the chocolate lab’s butt.
The dog jumped and barked
and growled playfully.
The next lab just got his
feelings hurt
so the man stopped
snapping the towel
and just let out a growl
and the lab wagged his tail
and barked for joy playfully —
same breed, different personality.

When in grief deeply distraught
I wondered what I ought
to do to find a caring face
and companion’s embrace.

And seemingly out of nowhere
I looked up and began to stare.
You were there and I knew
you might be the one — true.

In years, that was twenty-four ago
and, my, how the years do flow.
I did learn to love again
two years before the minister said amen.

When I was a senior in high school an English teacher
told us that if we went to the University of Illinois
and turned in a paper in our freshman 101 English class
with a misspelled word, we would flunk the class.

I, a notoriously bad speller, stayed home and went
to junior college, where I had a very demanding teacher
for English 101, but he forgave me for my misspellings,
gave me encouragement and I went on to major in English
even though I couldn’t spell my way out of a paper bag
and kept the dictionary and Thesaurus closer than the
Bible.

My teacher said that one day there would be an
internet and a thing called spell check and “all
will be well; all manner of things will be well.”
Actually, he didn’t say any of that, but things
did work out. The “all will be well; all manner
of things will be well” is a partial quote of
Julian of Norwich which my teacher would frown
at because he was an agnostic.

Another high school teacher said with the authority
of God, as did they all, that if we were “B” students
in high school, we would be “C” students in college.
Impressionable, I was living evidence of prophesy
fulfilled until I woke up and proved that teacher
100 percent wrong.

Moral: take the high school gods’ prophecies with a
grain of sult, er salt.

There is no explanation;
it remains a mind-boggling,
inexplicable, conundrum
sending bright people off
into disbelief. At the
heart of anguish there is
no rational explanation —
just a dead, bled-out
God quickening my
heart.

Mosquitoes join us
whether invited or not
as we camp stream side.

When the wind dies down,
they join our little soiree,
thinking it’s okay,

but reality
dictates that they have to go.
They crashed the party.