Puzzling Matter

Even when we die,

the ever-morphing puzzle

of identity

will not be complete.

Those who follow 

will put the pieces

 together, first one way

and then another,

as they too grow and change.




I sit and listen.

My grandkids hold forth

with facts garnered from TikTok.

I experience the simple joy

of connecting without comment.


Not Now

At the break of day

an owl’s persistent question

begs to be answered.

I toss him the only coin

I have, “It’s not me. Not now.”


All Shook Up

It’s gotten to be

the new normal,

these sudden

afternoon storms.

Is this nature’s way

of telling us,

she’s tired

of being exploited?




Bird Feeders’ Lament

Where has all the birdseed gone

Short time passing?

Where has all the birdseed gone

Short time ago?

Squirrels have eaten every bite

Short time passing.

When will we ever learn?

Little hope in sight.


(with apologies to Pete Seeger)


Blue Bouquet

Although they’d  never met,

 he left her a sweet note

and a bouquet of blue hydrangeas

his wife picked from her garden.

It was a thank-you from them both

and it brought a smile and soft tears.




Murphy Reaches Out

Extending her paw,

she gently touches my arm,

clearly wanting to connect.

“You stay too busy,” she purrs,

“Please put me on your agenda.”


Thank A Squirrel

Thank a squirrel.

The tree you see

may have come to be

because of a nut it buried

and then forgot.