The Same View Though Convertible: Revolutionary Blogging Poetry

On a perfect,
cloudless
summer day,
before I drove away,
I pullled off
the convertible top
to better see
driving under trees,
and sky,
and buildings
going by.

A friend
got in,
and stared
forward
out the window.
She liked feeling
the wind blow
through her hair,
but only looked forward where
she always did before.
She couldn’t see more
than her previous view.
So I stopped,
and said “Look up!”
and showed her something new.

To see a surprise
view, look to the skies.

Keeping My Goal: Revolutionary Blogging Poem

Hands chilled,
I wait for the sun
to drift past
boats,
ducks,
docks,
riprap rocks,
to warm my keyboard.

As dawn comes
to a near-silent lake
(the 6:01 a.m. to Dallas flys overhead
and the first waterskiers jet out
to meet the waking,
wakeless lake),
I look at site stats.

No one viewed me today.
(She had a busy night.)
I catch up
on poetry written
but not blogged.
Yesterday’s busy sunshine
grew weeds,
lawn,
strawberry plants,
tomatoes to plant,
roses to water,
rhubarb to harvest,
and one,
lone
poem,
published a minute before
midnight.

My one-a-day
goal
remains intact,
not on purpose,
but just
in fact.

My hands remain numb
as I wait for the sun
to come.