The first robin
collects things for its nest,
glad for untidy yard
The occasional
childish thought
keeps us young
Sunbeam highlights
Papa’s old rocking chair
thought I saw it move
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He warms before the
fireplace hoping the cold of
her death can be touched
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Poppies timidly
hide their beauty in darkness
refresh for sun’s glow
He left her arms for
war, until the day she died—
he was MIA
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It’s not true humans
are marks for sharks—
they just hate surfboards
Sunshine through window
spotlights a milky way of
dancing dust.
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Fast moving clouds
ripped apart by jagged peaks
like blade through butter
Sticking to theme of clouds:
Cumulus clouds are
best for finding the creatures
who make their home there
Pull book from box—
overdue by ten years
and fourteen days
Snow-soaked leaf
blown from stone
leaves its shadow
The forest so quiet
at the ebb of day, before
the night creatures sing
Drawn on the sidewalk,
a fading game of hopscotch—
first snow is coming
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We confess our sins
the same sins as before and
before, and before
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Reflected on wall,
shadow people mime real people
in the candlelight.
The tumbleweed
was built of travel—
barbwire fence
The tumbleweed
was built for travel__
barbwire fence
The wind walks the
isolated beach scattering
sand randomly
"Poetry is for those with a mind, a sense of humor, an imagination, a heart and a soul."
Curt NelsonSky is dark but clear
face in moon smiling
I don’t feel alone
So wise owl . . .
who! who! who! is answer
to everything?
She pressed the four-leaf
clover mid Bible pages
covers all bases
Grandma’s wool shawl
keeps her rocking chair company—
they still look lonely.
Hole in the toe
of my wool sock, a thing
Mom used to repair.
Sun splashes hillside
California Poppies pop
Reflecting orb’s glow
Seashore
Sunset
Calmness
Moon through window
slowly surveys my desk.
Raindrops tumble off
the sycamore leaves, while
tears roll down my cheeks.My kite caught in tree
been there all fall and winter,
it will sometimes wave.
Street singer seems
serenely satisfied singing—
coins in guitar case.
Loon’s forsaken cry
echoes over still lake
I wonder . . . where are you
My G. I. Joe stands
defender in my bedroom
while I’m off to war
Clothes on backyard line
frantically wave arms and legs
at the passing gust
Five cypress trees dance
to the tune of the wind
one is out of step
Spider, your woven web
links my stacked dirty dishes,
art is art
Cast-off tennis shoe
home to a patch of clover
figures— no four leaf
Red rose’s scent is
an aphrodisiac
if served twelve in number
Seek spiritual wisdom
from reclining Buddha,
but his eyes are closedThe rooster needs to
change circadian rhythm
or become stew stock
The photos on the wall
chronicle our family’s life—
well…the good parts
Wonder if salmon
ever wanted to turn tail…
hell with instinct
The mischievous jay
bullies backyard residents,
family cat studies.
Majestic mountains
of sand sculpted by winds—
unpredictable
In battle he carried
her letters over his heart—
she felt it stop
Duck decoys bobble
on wind-blown lake--traitors
to their species
I walk the same path
in every season to know
the truth of life
Do plants listen?
I sing to my plants daily—
they shrivel and die
Do plants talk?
Not so as I understand—
I’m bad at languagesAt first freeze
lake ice is colored with
captured leaves
Wind ripples the pond
causing sunbeams to frolic
along the surface
some sow wild in youth
to others it comes midlife
bad are the lifers
Abalone shell
cleaned in churning tides
reflects sun’s glow
The young couple floats
memorized over dance floor—
doubt they hear music
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No one expects
tears from a cat
but a dog…yes
My shadow plays
hide and seek when
cloud passes over
A turkey vulture
circles and surveys above
I should move around
Driftwood litters cove
in jumbled piles along beach,
like collapsed Jenga
The library stretched
floor to ceiling all four walls
knowledge under dust
The breeze caresses
the array of temple chimes.
Is there a message?
The granite boulder
holds warmth after sunset—
advantage lizard
What’s more important—
I complete my journey or
help the snail on his
At distance, roses
appear radiant, vibrant—
not full of aphids
Bed mat on cabin floor
several critters and I
share a restless night
Earthworm attempts
sidewalk crossing in broad daylight
murder of crows watch
A ring cloud imparts
to the snow-covered mountain
a saintly aura
Army of black ants
and I faceoff across from
partial ham sandwich
“Kind of Blue” spinning
half full, iced gin and tonic
calm—moments away
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Every boy sitting
in bleachers with baseball glove—
hopeful till last out
Masseuse puts her whole
self into relieving my stress
pre-tipping works
I watch rain drops form
rivulets running helter-
skelter down windshieldI plant seeds in land
aware of odds against me.
It is all I know.
Midwest summer day
humidity very high
even ladies sweat
Morning Glory vine
climbs garden hoe—good offense
is the best defense.