I sing of summer on the street
of laughter echoing happiness
up to the third, fourth, even, fifth floors
filling corridors of town so full
that people throw open windows and doors
to let joy spill in.
Let flags and banners snap and flap.
Let flowers bow with courtesy to each other and others.
Let the breezes warm and cool.
Let even the traffic purr contentedly.
Let sunlight’s shadow graffiti mark walls,
and streets and me, as we join the summer chorus.
Road Closed Ahead
Find Another Route
cast me adrift without a
Maps offer too little
detail to be helpful.
GPS warns, "Make a Legal U Turn or
plunge to your death on the road ahead."
Road Closed Ahead.
Set your life in order
Send up a flare.
No goes there.
Last opportunity for
Last Will and Testament here.
So, I stop, just before the bridge
to pray at Larry the Lawyer's
Last Will and Testament Stand,
decline the offer from the kid who
knocks on my window selling flares,
ignoring the sign that says,
"Turn Around Now
You Missed It."
When white sprinkled her coal dark hair,
smile lines became a permanent fixture.
Experience filled her with wonder instead of worry.
Always sweeter than cinnamon,
more alluring than vanilla,
she was perfectly seasoned
when her pepper was lightly salted.