The sky steals moisture

from the earth.

Each evening I do the rounds

with watering can to keep

parched plants alive.

They don’t thrive, 

not wanting company liquid, 

but the real thing

from the heavens. 

A lawn as wintry as snow.

They tug at my heart. 

I look up  in hope,

in vain. And yet, the longer

I maintain this resuscitation, 

the more I fee...

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THIRST

______

Did you ever wonder how our planet's end may come?

By warming or by freezing? The warming arrives first.

As the Golden State continues to desiccate, people scramble for some

Water, any amount, to moisten their throats, remove their thirst.

____________________________________________________

W: 6.20.14

[ From the book Plans, Nomadic Press, 2022. ]

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in rivers of right they spawn

eggs already torn and bent

that grow deprived of dawn

to salve and heal their rent

and battered by a rusty flail

to a state not unlike trance

a polka spinning them pale

to a hapless agony of dance

chalking symbols onto slate

a scratch makes evil mute,

silent observances of hate

doomed flora lacking root

sometimes they...

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Drowning in the Drought

At times I drip with poetry

The words simply pour out of me

A flow it seems no dam could ever stop

Until, I’m drowning in the drought

A flood of tears and mere self-doubt

That withers, in the barn, my finest crop.

17.1.2020

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`

fall into pools of swirling merriment
shirk substitutes that others recommend
firm in the knowledge of purest joy
your visage clear in mind, no mental toy

stab with wanton thrusts this warm caress
reveal dream's scorn amid phobic duress
with fiery brand your chariot swift - protect
lunar spheres in shaded ponds - thoughts collect

tinge red this broken tun...

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