sonnet for number ten

 

This stockman understands his cattle well;

he knows each bovine personality.

If list’ning to the farmer’s show and tell,

you just might learn which traits he thinks are key.

It’s easy to see why he prized that cow;

her gentleness was evident to all.

She would not kick or ever cause a row;

when calving, she walked calmly to the stall.

That morning lay this black cow in the dust;

for farmer’s eyes a sadness to behold.

He kneels beside the vet, whose words he trust.

No more fine, healthy calves from her be sold.

All creatures are destined to die at last.

We grieve, yet grateful, for a life well passed.

collateral damage

 

Groping slow-motion, sluggish

from sweetly dreamless sleep to

grasp thin robe, grab slippers in dark

to investigate the insistent rapping

on dorm room door.

 

Startle at troubled faces in collar and uniform;

an awkward visitation of starless midnight.

Stumble backwards toward rumpled bed,

mental fog pierced clean through as

unthinkable words erase reality.

 

No, dear God, NO!

Push the black panic away,

the fierce pain back into the Pit.

This monster is too horrible…

The incomprehensible can NOT happen!

 

Now dressed in fragile, trembling resolve

Must identify the broken bodies of beloved.

Bloodied, bruised by a violent vault of metal.

On white sheets, the cold tearless truth is blinding–

Absolutely alone on an axis-less earth.

 

Past numbing decisions and funeral’s fatigue,

grief rises from mounded grave sites

to suffocate this single survivor.

Nightmares and misery move in with baggage;

Wild sobs drown out the phone’s sad ringtones.

 

Anger burns at Death’s unrelenting greed;

flashes hot questions at God — “Why did YOU allow this?!”

Turns away from helpless friends’ futile comfort;

bends inward on already shell-shocked soul as

depressed thoughts, ghastly guilt clutch the mind.

 

Without permission, days and seasons move on,

and the others dare to go on living,  apart.

Faith’s mystery is always the epic struggle;

whether or not to trust…

to accept the inexplicable…beyond belief.

 

 

(With prayers for Brittany Vollmer who lost her family on February 23, 2013.)

Roe v. Wade legacy

 

Forty years of young blood

flows from unseen innocents

screams of pain silenced

by violent acts in desecrated sanctuaries.

 

Forty years of living lies

mothers’ nurture and  fathers’ love denied

beating human hearts betrayed

healers’ hippocratic oaths broken.

 

Forty years of injustice

how long is time enough?

america grows callous and cold

we all die a little inside.

extreme weather

 

Did the tourism bureau

neglect to mention

that in our fair state

expect to experience

four distinct seasons:

freezer burn,

flood ‘n mud,

swelter belt,

dust or bust  ?!

 

 

for bitter or worse

A_small_cup_of_coffeeHe and she

received a shiny black coffee maker

as a formal wedding gift

so…

she, for he,

brewed a steamy pot every morning

as a dutiful wife

and…

he, for she,

drank his morning cuppa joe

as a faithful husband

until…

she, then he,

admitted (after the first anniversary)

that neither really cared for black coffee

hence…

he and she

hid the coffee maker in a back cupboard

and poured orange juice for breakfast.

snowshoer’s take on life

Image

Slow down to notice spectacular beauty in ordinary scenes.

Make some fresh tracks where no one else has tramped.

Look upward and outward to where your feet should follow.

Re-trace the most memorable winding paths.

Be prepared for  fallen branches, hidden entanglements or narrow spaces.

When prickly pines try to needle you, carefully brush past them.

Reap rewards of pushing a little longer…a little further on.

Breathe deeply of crisp, clean air and laugh aloud in wonder

at all that glitters in the bright sunlight.

Be dazzled by life!

Breaking & entering

 

His presence enters the womb,

A babe invades the stable;

The answer questions the teachers,

A carpenter turns the table.

ATT00010

 

A light shines for the blind,

His life raises the dead;

The bread eats with sinners,

The shepherd’s lambs are fed.

 

The judge stands condemned,

An only son suffers alone;

Our lover embraces the cross,

The creator lies cold behind stone.

 

Lord, your power destroys death;

Your blood’s stain washes sin.

You must break into our world

When we will not let you in!

 

haiku…bless you!

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Plump red cardinal

dines on snow-dusted seeds, then

flees to frosted spruce.

 

Winter mittens kit

muscular feline fur ball

balanced on barn door.

 

Dark cows form huddle

warm breath steaming chilly air

bracing for blizzard.

advent…a trial by fire

 

At heaven’s high command,

a white-hot beam of purest light

penetrates time and space

to touch our tiny blue planet.

 

Silence is muted by the

wholly alien presence with

whispering whir of mighty wings.

Flesh crawls with palpable wide-eyed terror

as the dazzling creature of holy flame

fixes its piercing gaze on 

a pale, trembling mortal.

 

“Do not be afraid.”  

 

Surprising, melodious words 

uttered by the molten-gold messenger.

But when he speaks again–

eyes lower, palms sweat, and

dry lips must answer with

the total stuttering truth

or risk disintegrating

in ashes and smoke.

 

 

what kind of flower are you?

My mother raised roses in lovely hues:

soft peach, pale yellow, and deep scarlet;

each properly pruned and sweetly scented.

I admired her backyard bushes in bloom,

squirmed under her careful cultivation as

she pruned flaws and nurtured character

I was of different seed by birth but

mom raised me like her own heirloom,

watered with tender attention until

Transplanted to Iowa and grafted to a farmer,

I find myself blooming like a wild prairie rose;

delicately fragrant yet proven to be hardy.

IMG_1410

dance recital

 

Bright sliver of moon

in rosy sky at dusk

gleams sideways smile,

poised, waiting…

grinning confidently

as tired old sun

burns down slowly,

limps below dark edge

of corn rows’ silhouette stage.

Day’s number is done…

time for moonlight’s moves!

 

evaporating equine

 

A galloping cloud pony,

high altitude cirrus bred,

stretches swiftly across

untamed prairie skies

while thin wispy tail

and swirly mane

float whimsically

in its trail.

 

Aside

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