A Couple Less Grim

October 23, 1980

                    Marigold war in the yard

                    Evening falls

                    While children laugh

                    And leap

                    In the twilight's

                    Graceful sweep.

                    We seek in the darkness

                    Bits of gold

                    To toss at each one's

                    Flying hair.

                    The smell of marigolds

                    Scent the air.

                    We lazy down

                    In Autumns unmowed grass

                    And swing feet

                    In precision sweeps

                    To the musical clouds

                    Flowing out from within.

                    Deep sea sky lowers

                    And Mother calls us in.

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I wrote this poem today to describe a small adventure and the impact it had on me:

I walk down to the corner bread store

in the breeze whipping

my hair,

and the maroon and gold leaves

tumble behind my trail

as I walk past the marsh

in the hollow;

and the geese and the chickens

in desperation

run for cover,

wings flapping, rowing,

as they dive under the fir tree's

beckoning boughs

...to the dark,

comforting cave of cover

where they peck for the bits of

life sustenance.

I see the hawk

circling in the distant sea of gray

looking in vain;

and the chain on the deserted

flag pole

snaps and flaps

as it tries to escape

its boundaries.

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