As I age,
My vision fades.
Yet I’m sure
I’m seeing more.
My experience fills in
views I’m seeing again.
And colors even more
scenes I’ve not seen before.
It’s frustrating to me,
this hazed fogginess I see;
but my sight was always poor,
so I accept the gaps and endure.
For even blurred pictures I now have at hand
Time lets me more clearly see and understand.
Electricity
surrounds me daily. I’ll find
negativity.
There once was a man
who didn’t wash his hands
then touched everything in the kitchen.
When I remind him again
after he’d touched his glands,
I always felt I was bitchin’.
(That is to say,
not in a good way,
I’d rather eat rotten chicken.)
What should I do?
What should I say?
I continually remind him
day after day.
He just shrugs and stares.
He clearly doesn’t care.
Maybe not caring’s the trick
(At least ’til I get sick.)
You’d think what we’d seen
during Covid-19
would change his hand washing
without all my bossing.
What should I do?
I haven’t a clue.
And now I’ll go puke
’cause I’ve got the flu.
Friends were complaining after a major ice storm in the Chattanooga Metro area (Catoosa County, NW Georgia). With lows around 6 degrees above zero, it WAS cold! As the sun came up, it showed something magical: Diamonds in the Trees. I walked through the woods and out into the wildflower field at Spirit Tree Farms, where goldenrods, pokeweed, late bonneset, blackberries, grasses, and other native plants joined with honey locusts, hickory and oak trees, and more, to show off a collection of sparkling jewels unmatched at any jewelry store. I riffed these iambic lines in a video, trying to stiffle my crying. Thanks to HomeGrownNationalPark.org for the inspiration, and to Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus for the Creation.
Just when I thought
I wouldn’t care,
folks who brought me here
can’t be left there.
There’s much I want
to go and do.
I imagine at one time
they did too.
But then I and you
came to be,
and they stayed and cared
for you and me.
Now it’s our turn to watch and tend;
As they did before, we’ll help to their end.
I’ve been long away,
but today I stepped outside,
connecting inside.
With no direction/
towards perfection, I just/
stumble and bumble.
How surprised am I/
to see a cold December/
butterfly flit by!?!
Backstory: On #HomeGrownNationalPark‘s Facebook page, someone posted a photo of sprouting acorns, and wrote: “I know it’s not much, but … “.
Here’s my response: