Roses and Lilies

      they seem 
   to have their 
own stories, sitting, 
beautifully on 
   a display rack

   the story of 
      rainbows: 
a promise,
      to not kill 
  everyone with 
another flood.

      i look out 
my window.
   at that
bulletproof 
      rainbow,

   these days,
      our sense 
   of safety 
forever gone, 
we want it back.

i hear that
      promises 
get broken,
shattered
   like hearts. 

      when the
   mighty have 
fallen, nothing 
   and nowhere
feels secure.

      we should 
try to remember
   to celebrate
our beautiful 
      memories;

   never forget 
      the fallen,
while we breathe.

Yellow Lily

   she is a yellow lily
      buried in a floral 
department bouquet.

nobody knows
   how difficult
      everything
has become.

   winter is a day 
in an icy desert,
      a perpetual
frosty nightmare.

   listen to the
      chatter of
freezing teeth,

   know that this 
is a time for fire
   and fireplaces.

      understand it is
a season to comfort,
   to be comforted.

   a day will come
when green meets
warmth, creating
      excitement. 

   meanwhile we
   will comfort
ourselves with
      her beauty

she is a yellow lily
      buried in a floral 
department bouquet.

Unless the Centre

Unless the Centre

unless the centre
      holds, there is
   no way to win.

   so beautiful
when she was
      just a girl.

      the centre
   of her world,
he had clay feet.

   she had a friend
just up the street,
   when they were
young, their lives
      were sweet.

but time went on,
they grew apart,
      and then she
   gave away
her heart.

and found a boy
she liked so well, 
      she did not
think what games
   he played.

unless the centre
   holds, there is
   no way to win.

      so beautiful
when she was
   just a girl.

      the centre
   of her world,
he had clay feet.

Another Bright Bouquet

      all we want is
      something to
brighten our days.

      covid killed
our hallowe'en.
the neighbor's
    children and
a friend came
      to the door,

before darkness
   (they really
could not wait)

silence for an hour, 
then a few bigger kids, 
      all before seven.

   looking back
      at bright
memories
of hallowe'en,

and flowers 
      in a vase,
sitting pretty
      on a shelf,
waiting mindless,
   for a buyer.

   all we want is
   something to
brighten our days.



White Puzzle

White Puzzle

      what is this
   white puzzle,
appearing as if
      by magic,
something i
do not even
   remember?

delicate, inside
   the centre,
      all erotic,
attracting
   pollinators,
happily seduced.

white on white,
      so hard to
photograph!
subtleties win
      the prize
on a cloudy day.

i do not envy
its pollinators,
      they work
   so hard, for
      so, so little.

   but then we must,
and that includes
      me too, be very
      grateful that
they flew past
   and stopped.

Red, red, red

i met a man who
   could not see
      any colour.

   though i love
      to see colour,
i didn't pity;

   the man with
      no colour
was good as any.

he lived his way,
      making this 
   world his own.

he wasn't disabled
      in any way. 

      nobody knows 
what other senses
he may have had.

      he wasn't talking
about such things.

      perhaps there is
no way to speak of
   unshared visions.

we all walk alone.

Fuzzy Focus

   is it never
      beautiful
   when it 
looks out 
      of focus?

   focus is
   certainty.
and we seem
      to like it.

      but is it
ever to be
      really
   trusted?

too much time
   in easy chairs
might make
my back ache.

   sometimes i
   need to find a
less comfortable
      pastime.

   i need to 
      refocus on
certainty and
      learn to see
the never seen,

   and maybe
   understand
beyond focus,
   where there
are different
      beauties.

Phlox in a Sunbeam

   on hands and knees
i twist and stretch
looking for an image
      i could love,

   up above it all,
      a golden light
cruises overhead.

   but shadows move
imperceptably
      slowly. 

   so things change.
i see no movement,
      and so it is.

   my vision has no
   great value. i
      do not matter.

   and there it is!
      the very thing
i wanted, picture
   of joy, summer
      on a screen.

   i'll put it
      on a page.
someone will
surely love it.
      so i like to 
   think, anyways