#3 Wet

Thirsty ground has become

Crispy stalks of breakable

Slices of deceased grass

 

Bright blooms have wilted

As parched petals surrender

Falling in finality

 

Dry gray stones revealed

The brook losing moisture

While gaining ground

 

Tall trees without care

Their penthouse leaves

Still luscious green

 

Frivolous humans

Watering their landscape

As though there is more

#2 Covered

The Lone Ranger

wore a mask

to cover his eyes

shelter his identity

 

Inevitably he would holler

Hi-Yo, Silver! Away!

Which no doubt caused

folks to notice

 

Bank robbers wear masks

to conceal their faces

though the guns quickly

indicate who they are

 

Trick or Treaters hide

behind chosen costumes

threatening at your door

for free sweet bounty

 

The Klan wore white hoods

announcing their intention

conveying fear and danger

to this day it still works

 

At the grocery store

unable to enjoy breathing

I wear a mask as it is

a matter of life and death

#1 Sloppy Eaters

Woodpeckers, Jays, squawky Grackles emptying feeders

The Crows wait on the ground for theirs

Never a cute little Bluebird, a Yellow Finch

Always the loud insistent sloppy eaters

 

Bags of seed and slabs of suet disappear daily

Trips to the hardware store a weekly event

Needing a coupon each time to keep bellies full

The pleasure of nature becoming a mandate

 

Now Pigeons in the barn dirty feathers abound

A nightmare of bodily debris gathers

Swooping low to exit with indignant cries

As though their eviction would be illegal

 

A mother Robin manages to hatch her young

Risking trips for food while Pigeons complain

Perhaps another week until her babies can fly

To leave this hostile world and return to trees

May The Force Be With You

Greetings Poets,
This year I will enjoy the company of my puppy, Miss Millie. Finally someone I can read to!
I wish you all a creative, fun, and snack rich experience. Though I have done this before I do
not consider myself a poet, however, on most days I consider all singing, humming, laughing
humans POETS.
Blessings and have fun.
Tobe & Millie in Vermont, US

How come you get to be Dorothy?

How come you get to be Dorothy?

 

The Scarecrow asked

Amazed while

Turning to the others

 

It’s not because

I’m a girl she answered

Sensitive to his feelings

 

The Lion had gone

Back to work while

The Tin Man listened

 

I need to learn home

Is not about the rules

Dorothy continued

 

The Tin Man

Smiled and touched

His loving heart

 

You don’t need

All the right people

To have a home

 

Now the Lion bravely

Listened as he

Knew this to be true

 

Home is accepting

And understanding

A safe place to fall

 

Oh said the Scarecrow

I knew that

I didn’t Dorothy replied

 

Welcome home

 

 

TobeTT  #24

Full basket

Full basket

 

September puppy

Waiting to be born

 

All my eggs

In this basket

 

Morning

Wags and kisses

 

Coming home

Greetings

 

Leaning in to

My sad stories

 

Laughing at

The same jokes

 

Big pressure

For a little guy

 

 

TobeTT  #23

2wenty 2wo word harvest

2wenty 2wo word harvest

 

early peas so welcomed

the first to go

dry desperate tendrils

grasping

the wiry metal fence

then yanked

without a thank you

 

withered vines break

in the wind

frost bitten

red tomatoes intoxicated

into jars

for deep winter meals

and perhaps

a blue ribbon

 

the last

green bumpy cucumber

waits alone

her young children abducted

pickles she sobs

dill I believe

humans can be

so cruel

 

anxious zucchini

hopes for a pie

no one is coming

for you

september is over

and you’re boring

so much for success

 

the growing is done

time to go

warns the crow

not for me

cries the four-eyed potato

Thanksgiving

they’ll be back

 

 

TobeTT  #22

Short bread cookie tin

Short bread cookie tin

 

Planting the azalea

She dug up cow bones

The marrow rotting

In to the earth

 

Rinsed in the sink

Hoping to impress

Her grandsons

A forensic moment

 

Placing the bones

In an old cookie tin

Tempted to dig again

Baked a pie instead

 

Glancing at the tin

The old woman smiled

One day a good place

To keep my ashes

 

 

TobeTT # 21

LOVE

LOVE

it dies of blemishes, of atrophy, of exhaustion …

Left on the table

In the kitchen with

Too many windows,

The air thickens,

Hot,

Muggy.

Puts one in a salty mood.

In time a white patch will appear,

Then the mold sets in … green.

No one notices.

From within, around the seed,

The heart.

There is decay

From being ignored.

On the wall the clock ticks

Closer to indifference.

 

 

TobeTT  # 20

Winter’s Friend

Winter’s Friend

 

In dreams

Gliding untethered

Across clear ice

Turning

A crisp whoosh

To stop then bow

 

Blue wool hat

Edged with

Gentle white fur

Falling as feathers

A perfect holy

Angel

 

Rolling snow orbs

Fashioning a

Winter’s friend

Wrapping the

Red scarf

With reverence

 

Dreams melt as

Car doors slam

Needing help

The old woman

Walks carefully on

Winter memories

 

Tobe TT # 19