Sunday, June 30, 2013

cacophony



four am . . .

perched in the lilac bush
outside the bedroom window
he begins singing at the top of his lungs
signaling all the neighborhood robins
to join him in his enthusiasm
for the dawn he believes is imminent

doesn’t matter whether it is April or June
he consults the wrist watch worn
around his left leg with the precision
of a station master in charge of arrivals
regardless of when the sun
pushes the darkness away

no consideration given
to human occupants huddled in beds
after a long winter of snows
unwilling to shut the window
or bury their heads under pillows
to shut out the robins’ cacophony

life is like these dilemmas
one can’t have it all
sleep or singing can’t coexist
the robins make a clear choice
in favor of singing out their hearts
the better choice in this crazy world

Monday, June 17, 2013

Ode to My Cane

For some reason a number of odes had been showing up in my life, so I decided to memorialize my cane that has traveled far and wide with me.

Ode to My Cane

Trusty is her name
       keeping me safe from all harm.

She prevents me from
       falling flat on my face.

She has traveled across the globe
       putting her footprint
       on strange and foreign soil.

She has kept me upright
       during fierce seas
       and cobbled streets.

She endures all manner of weather
       snow, sleet, heat, rain, and ice.

She bears the signs of age
       her blackness nicked and scratched.

She wore out one padded handle
       so wears a handle transplant.

She endures being hung
       from tables and chairs
       while maintaining her dignity.

She is common in appearance
       a soul friend who resembles me.
     
She bears no envy of other canes
       with fancy painted designs or elegance

She is dependable and ever curious
       as to where we might go next.

And if I should ever be in danger
       I could use her to wield a mighty whack!

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

BLINK

          This sprung weather is like

                   dark grey, rain
                       bright green, sunshine
                   dark grey, rain
                       bright green, sunshine
                   dark grey, rain

                       then - 
                           finally night descends

                           as if the eyes of our neighborhood

                                are blinking
                                       in disbelief

                                                             -Clem Nagel

                         

Monday, June 10, 2013

We are BACK!

No, we did not die, leave the country (other countries do have Internet, you know), or quit writing all together.The problem is that we have been suffering from a serious medical disorder called Garden-body.

Seriously!

Garden-body occurs from an excessive number of hours and days spent gardening.

Usually, we begin cleaning up our garden sometime in March - after the snow has disappeared. Not that it doesn't snow here again in April, but late season snow does not usually last very long. Then, the first of April, we plant pea pods for stir fry, followed by radishes, lettuce, scallions, broccoli, and other cool season crops. By the first of May, when the oak trees' budding leaves are the size of mouse  ears, as my grandfather used to say, in go the potatoes. By mid-May, its time for tomato plants, peppers, and eggplant.

In between veggie planting, we trim dead wood out of shrubs, put in new shrubs, including a rose or two, split and move perennials, and put new perennials in empty spaces. Though by now there aren't many empty spaces left. It's like a symphony with its moods and movements, all carefully composed for the pleasure of its creator and its listeners.

However this year it was still snowing in early May and the ground covered with winter snows.

The result? Garden-body. We have done about  two months of gardening in two weeks. Other than keeping bills paid, milk and OJ, in the fridge, and gas in the car, our lives have been consumed by retrieving our garden from the effect of last summer's drought and this year's extended winter.

Now I am happy to say the hard work is over. And we can resume normal life. That is, if life can ever be described as normal.

The worrisome issue is climate change underlying all of the "crazy weather." Part of the present cause of weather events is melting Arctic ice, pushing cold air much further southward into the USA. When that cold air encounters warm gulf air it creates the makings of disasters. The melting ice floes from the high Arctic that we encountered, as we crossed the North Pacific last spring (that meant returning to Japan to find another route), was further evidence of these massive changes.

Folks here, me included, have been grumbling and complaining a lot about the weather this spring. One grey rainy day after another. But we have had it easy compared to other places around the world.
Excessive high temps in the SW and forest fires. Flooding in the east and central parts of this country. Tornadoes. Eastern  Europe flooded and unseasonably cold. The list goes on . . .

So in scheme of things, our sore Garden-bodys will heal. At this point, our garden looks like we are living in an English gardener's paradise.  And we now have time to "take pen in hand" and resume our writing lives.