It was not hard to/
grow Swiss chard, so why did I/
delay the harvest?
AND
Unknown Culinary Delight
Who knew, as the chard/
grew, what boiling, olive oil,/
lime and herbs would do?
AND
I Could Yodel, It’s Sooooo GOOD!
Italian herbs and/
seasonings meet Swiss chard for/
a Alpine taste treat!
AND
She’d Never Had Before
At 84, she’d/
never had Swiss chard before./
But now, she wants more.
Shopping in SoCal/
swap meets lets you expand your/
t-shirt collection.
4 a.m. wake ups/
leave little room for later/
creativity.
When she heard about/
Kindness, she nodded because/
She always is that.
In my life it is/
Always better to be kind/
Than to be clever.
When you have much to/
cleanse in your life, it’s hard to/
think of He who cleans.
He’s sad he can’t sneak/
down the long corridor and/
hug* her this early.
He, rushed, didn’t have/
the whole experience he’d/
paid for. She, still, did.
Why should I rebel/
against another’s verse? It’s/
not competition.
This poem was written years ago — I don’t know when — at Speak For Yourself open mic night in Provo, Utah, at Enliten Cafe / Guru’s on Center Street
The napkin poem
of the evening
is caught
in demographic shock,
and so must celebrate
we, who are not celebate,
we who are
older.
At last, I’m seeing
more gray beards,
male AND female,
with listening ears
and minds.
They bring their words
of wisdom,
words of age.
Some may rage,
but mostly we just say
lessons we’ve learned,
words we want to share,
because sharing words
keeps us safe.
Sharing words keeps us
angst-less,
and keeps us living,
and keeps us
alive.