June-August 2015


Water related images appear in three by 3  postings of July and December 2014, March and September 2013, June 2012.

This posting includes two poems with water imagery. Noah’s Notions was written in 1999 and published the same year. Skimming All the Way, from 2008, is one of my first poems written in the US,  post retirement.

Timely Observations has nothing to do with water! It shares with Noah’s Notions the year written and publication by the same journal.

CorrectionIn the March-May 2015 posting, the first line, last paragraph of Windfall   incorrectly read Could the crows change sides… The corrected line is Could the wind change sides…


Noah’s Notions


At first, ancillaries change.
Now it rains too often.
The birds have skipped chirping.
The rainbows are washed up.
Yes, this must be Mesopotamia.
My sympathy should sync in.
It’s pointless to long
after a rosy sky.
For one that went elsewhere.
Besides, I can’t backtrack
with both rivers bridgeless.
Their waters are taking
over my last memory bank.

Suddenly, like airborne flotsam,
I’m hearing even worse tidings.
Their drift’s coming clearer:
some day the sun’ll rise again,
but, meanwhile, there’s
more flooding to be forded.

As I’m lacking a lifesaver
any waterproof solution
needs nailing down—now.
Even ark work which,
though highly spoken of
by the world builder,
still sounds screwy.


First published in Kimera


Skimming  Along the Way


He can always find
at low tide, stone
after stone along this beach;
though only a few
land in his bucket,
each as round, smooth,
flat as a coin.

Besides choosing wisely,
he knows how to throw
far, so hard
that, on a calm day,
they skip on and on,
right for the horizon.

By mid morning,
his lot is cast
along with theirs.
He sent them soaring,
above and beyond
the sea’s reach.
They leave him standing
by the shore, holding
an empty bucket.


Timely Observations


Time out has no due date,
though it could show up
should someone stumble,
without waterwings,
into a whirl pool.

There’s no watch in the world
which works so well
as to tell when a will
will be needed for a reading.

The sand thins down, ad nauseam.
The middle ground undergoes
a shakeout…

…as an hour glass’ horizon sifts,
from top to bottom,
from one end to another,
adding both halves together.

So, a clock’s always unwinding,
with quartz hands
counting on pulses.

Then, when a busy body
runs late an alarm rings.
This time without stopping.


First published in Kimera

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