No cooperation’s coming
my way today.
Family, friends
and even the
weather insist it’s all blue skies
and sunshine, but
I want only
to sulk and whine
and nurse my gloom against a gray
and complaining
sort of sky, yet
I’m stuck with light.
JDG
Holding Green
Some trees have had to twist and bend
and stretch to find
their way to green.
Even with limbs
removed by wind or man or weight
of snow, they hold
a memory
that holds them too.
Holding and being held comes from
life’s own deep core
and from it flows
enduring green.
JDG
As They Do
Watching them lie there in the sun,
that cat and dog
of mine, I yearn
to give myself
over, as they do, to the warmth
and light that’s here.
That to-do list
needs to go, all
that inner chattering cease, as
I too circle
round and find my
place in the sun.
JDG
Spring Delight
Wisteria, weeping purple
tears of joy, stand
next to dogwoods
full of smiles.
They nod to nearby redwood trees
grinning in the
early morning
sun. Lower down,
buttercups and dandelions
tell their latest
jokes to any
passer-by.
JDG
Full Circle In Forty Years And Three Minutes
When young, my son wrapped every nick
and scratch in ace
bandages. I
would dismiss his
woes, saying, “Back in pioneer
days they didn’t
run to the doc
every fifteen
minutes,” but one time when we did
go, we learned his
wrist was broken.
Gleefully, he
repeated what I often said,
to which the doc
replied, “True, but
back in those days,
folks had alot of gimpy wrists.”
Forty years pass
and I call my
son because I’m
stumbling and can’t keep my balance.
On the way back
from the doc and
lots of tests, my
son looks over at me, grins and
says, “I’m really
glad when you called
at five a.m
my higher self was the one who
answered.” “Why?” I
ask. “What would your
lower self say?”
“Back in pioneer days, they did
not run to the
doctor every
fifteen minutes.”
JDG
So Soon
So soon the cherry fades. After
its eagerness
to bloom, it has
but a moment
in the sun before it must step
aside and make
way for dogwood,
persimmon, and
plum. So it is with flowering:
a brief burst of
loveliness, then
a steady fade.
JDG
Morning Madness
It’s early morning and all that
squawking I hear
down by the pond
makes me wonder
if, among these geese, it’s love or
war I hear. Just
like with us, it’s
sometimes hard to
tell. One thing, though, is clear. Waking
to these sounds is
not music to
a morning ear.
JDG
A Gentle Shift
The white I see on ground and trees
is no longer
snow. It seems this
season’s bipolar
days are coming to an end and
for a time we
can let ourselves
be soothed by Spring’s
new and tender green and bask in
the gentle shift
to pink, purple,
blue, white, and gold.
JDG
Certainties
After a few unsteady days,
when gait and thought
lacked certainty,
some things remained
unwavering: the care of friends
and family,
the welcoming
presence of dogs
and cats, and the recentering
that humor and
writing these short
poems can bring.
JDG
First Mowing
The smell of wild onions fills
the air as he
mows for the first
time this year. He
allows some buttercups to stand
and spares a small
patch of tiny,
blue forget-me-
nots, but shows no mercy to those
green upstarts who
so slyly try
to pass for grass.
JDG
