Brown Spotted
spider
mends his
silken web
knit one
pearl two
long legs
pull and
twist.

Knit
one
pearl two
another stitch
leads to
a seam.

An aphid
flew in
for a rest
and now
a lunch
joined by
strawberry-faced
moth.
And
it sways
to greet
them a final
blow.

MY WINDOW

While brushing my teeth
I watch the happenings in the valley
on Saturday morning.

Maybe they’re the same
but different today.
There’s a change going on
Some days more apparent
than others but the train on the hill
whistles its tune on its way
from here to there.
Its resonance is clear unlike
when summer
trees block the beautiful echo

The valley seems brighter and larger
The ducks drop in
and noisy geese fly over on
their way
to a pond that
offers corn
as a treat.

Lulu rests
in her special place nearest
the window.
She’s been
in her ornate box with her favorite
toys for seven years.
She is near to my heart.

She’d bark at geese
ducks and the many
squirrels that play there.
Her ears rise and I know she would
have enjoyed this day.

I finish brushing,
it’s a cool day
breezy, bright with sun,
and go for a walk.
We can’t take
a walk but I take her with me.
Always.

THE PICNIC
From Monet

A small grassy spot
a square of linen edges
adorned with purple flowers.

The wine spot faded
to a smudge,
dotted by the smorgasbord
of white-boned elegance,
an artistic décor
of oleander
and jasmine
supplying sweet
aromas.

Crusty bread, a mound
of cold chicken,
beet salad,
the bottle of Grappa
ready for opening,
a fare set for two.

The corkscrew
needs strong fingers.
A shadow arrives over
the cloth, hovers
in the bowl
of darkening fruit
as rain pours
the waiting
drink falling
from flavor.