CITIZEN OF . . .

There was a time that now
seems so very long ago, when I
would freely admit, sometimes claim
to be American, if not acknowledging
my time in the Air Force as well.

Those days are gone, as is the place
I knew, now morphed into somewhere
much the same, and entirely unrecognizable,
and I am American by proximity, knowing
my welcome has been worn out for me elsewhere.

It need not, ought not, have been this way,
political seas have long ebbed and flowed,
but I, we, knew we could remain afloat
on our constitutional raft, built to ride out
whatever storms might blow our way.

We know, or have an abiding hope that this,
that he and his band of marauders, will pass
into history, a dark cloud finally pushed aside,
but despite the shortness of his tenure,
I can only nervously wonder what will remain.

WYNWOOD

They leap from the walls,
they are in your face as you approach.
You don’t know what to expect
and that is precisely how they wish it.
Still, you don’t tire of them, and you
don’t recoil, but stare more intently.
They engage you, defy you and welcome
in the same moment, and you
only want to follow them deep
within the cinder block, the plaster,
and take up residence alongside them,
and from afar, the mural artists smile.


For Something Different, a new bird photo each day, visit my other blog:
Bird-of-the-day.comĀ 

MOMENT

Enter slowly, calmly, and we dare say
enter at your own risk for you cannot know
what will happen within, nor can we
although we have been here countless
times before if our memory serves us, which
of course it cannot for it, too, is stuck
in this very moment with no escape.
Do not try and fight it, nor should you
think about understanding it for the effort
is doomed to failure, and escaping that
is one of the reasons you are here,
if you look openly at yourself, painful
thought that is for each of us always.
If you find it, or when, do not try
to hold on to it, for it cannot be held,
merely welcome it in and when
it decides to leave, as it will,
bid it a gentle farewell and smile.

COFFEE ROASTING

They dance defiantly
denying gravity as they
tumble through the air.
They cede
their color reluctantly,
Now a beige, but soon
a defiant chocolate-brown,
milk turning slowly dark.
They entice you,
their perfume perhaps
too strong for some,
but it draws you in
and you cannot help
but imagine how the thought
of them will rise
as you do from the bed
and together you
will beckon the day.