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A SIMPLE CHOICE
It is a simple choice, she said,bicycles or a cat. I wanted to tell her thatthere are no simple choicesin the middle of a pandemic,and those that seem that way,to mask or not, to shop or notcan be life or death choices. I thought about the optionsfor a few moments, rememberedthe cats I still mourn…
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FOUR HAIKU
the morning dew smilesthe rising sun stares deeplylater a merger the egret stands fixedwishing he was a statuethe rippling pond laughs clouds blacken the skythe sun plays hide and go seekwe watch patiently. winter is lurkingbut swaying palms reject itit retreats northward
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ASK OF THE SEA
When you ask me of the sea,living, as I do, fifteen milesfrom the nearest ocean, itis not the sandy beachesof Hutchinson Island I recall,nor the crowded sandboxthat is Fort Lauderdale’s beach. If you ask me of the sea,it is perched on the horizon,far in the distance, lookingout of the kitchen window,or perhaps that of the…
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EVEN HERE
As winter closes in around us,even here, the Great Blue Heronsgo about building a nest,inviting us to watch as theymake a home of gatheredbranches and twigs, obliviousto the state of our world,of the pandemic gripping us. We watch respectfully, knowingthat in this darkest of seasons,we are about to witnessour own little miracle and willsoon bear…
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ARE YOU CRAZY?
The birds look at us as though we had two heads. They cannot, they say, comprehend how we can stand to live in boxes, to travel in metal containers, to be stuck forever to the ground. They say that food should be picked then eaten instantly, not packaged and half thrown away. They say they…
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THE SUN ROSE
The sun rose this morning,as if the day were not in anyway out of the ordinary, daynumber far too large to countfor those with finite capacity. The birds begin, their harmoniouscacophony, though they thinkit their lauds, matins of reflectionburned off with the dew underthe gentle glare of a morning sun. They watch us begin to…
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AN AFTERNOON STROLL
There are three of themand they walk slowly along the sideof the road, proud yes, but are theyold men who see no need to hurry,or self-assumed royalty who dare not. Nor is it clear if they are the samegroup who gathered outsidethe ornate gateway into PGA Villagetwo weeks ago, perhaps tired ofthe endless greens fees…
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WINTER MEMORY
As a child I know the wintersmust have been milder, as itwas never too cold to have my parentstake is to Sheridan Park wheremy father would drag the oldwooden toboggan up the chuteadjacent to the stairs as we ran ahead,and smile as we hurtled downseeing how far we could goacross the snow packed runway. After…
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FORKED TONGUE
I can’t tell you how longit’s been since I’ve seena snake around here, mostlybecause my sense of timehas limits of a decade. I read that they are plentifulin the Everglades, huntedas an invasive species, whichprobably stands to reasonsince our hatred is by now of Biblical proportions, and wehave learned to love goats,so, it is the…
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IN THE WETLANDS
Walking through a nature preservelike Wakodahatchee Wetlands youmust always keep a sharp eye. The birds are everywhere, they areunavoidable and even the alligators,imagining themselves coy are soon enough easily recognized,snouts appear just above the surfacewary eyes scanning the shore. Here you are also surroundedby poems, but they are far moreable to hide, among the eggs…
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an old writer and his words 