Breeze Through Ponderosas

Whauuuuu-huuuush-auuuuuuuuh...
Rush of Earth’s breath 
through her pine honeyed lungs.

Meditating With Zeeba

Kneeling on my zafu,
the cat who was terrified of us
creeps between my knees 
curls himself into a dozy circle.

At the Bottom of a Windowsill Jelly Jar

Vacant beetle carapace faded from
sepia and burnt sienna black
to golden burnt and raw sienna brown 
head gone, one rear leg at odd angles.

Listen Longer

Draw a straight line in the dark 
from this window out past 
the neighbor’s tinny radio
up the hill into the pines
where the great horned owl calls
“WHO-TO-DO...WHO-WHO” 
still further out, a muted reply
“Who-to-do...who-who-who.”

Mindful Hydration

From prayer position, breathing deep
my hands arc slowly into outstretched
upturned bowls pausing to receive,
slowly release the lung stretching breath
slowly arc through the hands returning.
When my hands touch I notice
wrinkled finger tips, tight dry palms.
The old cobalt blue bottle is warm 
against my lips, the sun sweetened water 
glurp glurp glurps onto my tongue and
slides down, slides down, slides down.
I replace the cork, reposition my feet
right by that knothole
left three boards over,
watch out for that splinter,
bend the knees.
Now.  Begin again. 

This Way Then That Way

The twitch of the cat’s tail,

the tilt of the nuthatch’s head.

Motivated

A horse blowing, somewhere out of sight,

thub-thubity, thub-thubity of hooves

then dust and snapping twigs. A white mare

skitters through the trees and down the bank,

clatters splash-splash-splash across the ford,

gallops thub-thubity-thub-thubity

up the slope to the barn and neighs

like a steam engine coming into the station,

stands chewing, long stalk of hay dangling.

Looking Up From a Book

Idling in the garden swing I try

to twist my mind round Existentialism. 

Down near the creek a tawny doe grazes

between daises and stalks of yellow yarrow,

swish swish-swishing  her white tail.

Found Design

Long shampooed-out hairs

stuck to the shower wall tiles

in parallel curves like woodgrain

or topo lines on a map.

Dinner Time Sky

Flat bottomed clouds 

with mounded tops

like Grandma’s drop biscuits 

on a blue plate.

There is a New Kid at Our House

He looks just like the other eleven year old,

the one that lived here last week,

but instead of whining about being bored

this kid pesters me for paying yard work.

He has already weeded the corner garden bed

taken up a career in invasive mint abatement

washed all the main floor windows

and cleared fallen twigs from the south yard.

So, today we dragged out the red gas mower

and commenced power tool training.

No sandals, put on your boots!

Gas goes here, check oil there, 

set the choke like this.

Hold down the red bar, 

grab the black tee handle

and...

PULL! ... PULL! ...PULL!

OK, let me pull.

Pu...pu...PULL!  Brrraaaahhhhhhhhh!

The vibrations runs up both of our arms,

mine around him from behind,

I try not to step on his heels

as we stumble along together

him learning, me relearning,

to operate this growling, grass eating beast.

It’s really too heavy for him to push

but using the power drive to the wheels

makes it hard for him to control.

Back and forth and around in the heat

(thank goodness for the overcast!)

Once I do the fiddly bits you get 

in a country yard, 

odd shapes around woodpiles, 

parked snowmachines

flower beds and a huge trampoline,

he practices turning corners, 

emptying the grass bag

and overlapping swaths 

in the central rectangle.

Then, that’s enough. We quit.

Neither of us want to tackle the bits 

around the garden and back of the house.

We’ll leave the rest for the grown men.

I don’t want to discourage the new kid

but I’m thinking 

next summer will be soon enough

for him to try mastering the mower.

We’ll find other work for Mr. Motivated.  

It’s not like we are running out 

of weeds to pull!

Looking Up

Winding river of blue sky

flows between green banks

of elder boughs and lilac leaves.