A sigh, a laugh, a word, a smile
can sometimes soothe,
can sometimes sting.
What is sent falls
on fallow ground if it isn’t
taken. What is
taken but not
given thrives on
land all its own. So much depends
on the will and
spirit of the
recipient.
JDG
Tails wagged and tales spoken greet me
when I return.
Even before
I’m in the door,
they welcome me and fill me in
on all I missed
while I was gone.
Though there might be
calmer ways to come back home, I
relish this wild,
wagging welcome
of tails and tongues.
JDG
“I really need to cut your grass
three times a month,”
he said, and when
told my budget
wouldn’t permit this added cost,
he said he’d do
it anyway; he’d
save both gas and
time that way. As I thanked him, I
knew what he was
trying to help
me save was face.
JDG
What is it that makes us willing
to see and speak
the truth when just
minutes before
we weren’t? No persuasive words were
spoken nor was
pressure applied,
yet suddenly
there comes a shift and through this door
life lightly steps,
softly singing
a whole new song.
JDG
A switch gets flipped, a channel changed
and what once was
is no longer
here. For most things
slow fades suit me better than these
sudden shifts, but,
alas, I’m not
often asked for
my preference. Changes flash and
changes dribble
forcing me to
adjust my scope.
JDG.
Just across the bridge, the road turns
gold as the sun
begins its long
descent and for
a time the way is golden lit
before it turns
from gold to gray,
then back again.
So it goes until the final
bend toward home when
the shadows grow
and night is near.
JDG
Listening to the leaf blower
outside my door,
I find myself
wishing for a
blower to clear away all dried
leavings from my
day and prepare
an open space
for something fresh. A sigh guides me
to my breath. There
I discover
just what I need.
JDG
“Let me listen to Gaba not
listening,” he
said and she aimed
the phone my way.
“Ah,” her uncle said. “It sounds just
like it did when
I was young. Wait
til she puts her
book down and try again. You’ll have
better luck when
no other words
are in her head.”
JDG
After Saturday’s soaking rain
the garden glowed
in Sunday’s sun,
gathering ants
and flying things to its fulsome
breast. All creatures,
winged or crawling,
could find respite
there – even a tiny, torn-winged
butterfly who
settled on sun
lit purple sage.
JDG
When hummingbird, raven, and snake
show up and join
cicada and
squirrel, I
begin to wonder what’s stirring
in these realms, and
when gorilla
also appears,
I know this unlikely band has
some strange music
to play for those
with ears to hear.
JDG
