Morning in the Forest (day 1879)

As morning shakes its view to sight
A squirrel says hello
And repeatedly I hear a coo
Coming from a morning dove
Seeing sweet sun at last.
Chirps and burps make their way
About the valley floor
For everywhere, in deforested alcoves
Are packed as many can fit
In summer campers
In expensive tents
And some even in hammocks to swing!
And I begin what’s friendly to me
A routine I’ve come to enjoy
First I feed, then I sip
Upon the best things I can fix.

Home (day 1878)

I am the will of ancient Rome
I cannot see my moon
I hear warm cackling of great fir
Smouldering as it burns.
Yet my two eyes cannot provide
Clear sight that I dream for
For my device in plain sight
Requires three at its helm.
So I will build layered roads
I will cull the dragon’s neck
I have thunder in my sword
To dig my family’s home.

Archives (day 1877)

The dangers of being someone
Often robs my moments
Of what I feel should be cataclysmic
Orgasmic
Ecstatic moments of breakthrough clarity,
And leaves them used up
Neatly piled in a maintained room
Settled and organized
And dated, for archival purposes.

Fireflies (day 1876)

Wondering how birds sing,
How sun sets
And blue skies ripple
With clouds so sensitive,
Yet so strongly ready
So sturdy
For days ahead.
I wonder how stars come,
How moon lifts its eyes
And birds see night sky.
So my head drifts slowly
And my eyes twinkle
And softly, evening returns
To the land of fireflies.

Dead Ends (day 1874)

I don’t want to remember
Because the stories of my nostalgia
Belong to endings I’ve never lived
And lost songs I’ve left unsung
Ring on in my head.
I don’t want to play those records
Because they’re broken now,
And my heart reaches
Every time the needle skips,
And every time I drive those streets
I’m left shifting gears of a
Past I’ve left dead ended.

Young Bliss (day 1873)

I’m young, you know.
Made of friendly banter
And anger so quick to jump.
I’ve a heavy foot
Along a freeway and open road,
A bypass of the byway.
My roots: growing,
Simple thoughts into
Designs and plans
Sewing a spot to exist in.
So I dance and weave
Hands held high…
Or beside
Because beside is with
And I’m young and in bliss
And coming home
To a fancy freedom
Upon my dawn
I’ll tie my shoes.

Alone to Dream (day 1872)

Alone is what to be would be
If I were out at sea
Amidst the waves and blowing wind
Setting my sails aglow.
Alone is what the songs would sing
Should I not hear your voice
That sang about morning chores,
Music to my ears.
But alone amidst the evening’s set
Should never find me awake
For dreams take me floating away
With ten friends upon adventure.

Forest Trail (day 1870)

Did you ever wander lonely
At a path about the forest
Where squirrels chirp
And fly’s buzz
About and around your presence?
For in the path,
And on the trail
There is silence before you come
A silence that lasts like inhaled breath
And breaks soon enough again.
And on this path where needles fall
Flora grows as wild as wild can be
Blossoms at different times
Spring out to say hello.
Now, if your lucky as a rabbit can be
Some fauna will browse your way
About its trail,
Upon its way
From whence I’ll never know
And likely never see,
In spite exploring
In spite discovering
In spite the many paths one takes
There’s always another
Always a corner
Left for another day.