It Works!

For Morale

Framed

The ducks by Stonegate

A pair of mallards sits on a

Manicured stone by an

Artificial fountain

Ah, the massive continuity of ducks

Here there be lakes,

(Or ponds, or even fountains)

Here there be ducks.

magnet poetry always does good in curing writers block.

Before you a love song never took shape 

never blinked at me with blue-green eyes,

never stabbed me. 

Before you a breakup song never 

laid on my shoulder

and cried with me 

Your love made it all make sense. 

This is why teardrops were on guitars. 

This was why la vie was en rose. 

I only wish I had left love

safely buried

on pages and stanzas.

Tree Stars

February

First crickets of an Arizona

Spring breaks the hush of

A cold-snap winter.

Light rain makes for a soggy

Week, but is never enough for the

Reservoirs. The streets grow louder

As motorcyclists break out their

Bikes, emboldened by the rising

Warmth. Finally, the last citrus fruits

Gain their ripeness, falling lethargically

To stone gardens, preparing to

Adorn themselves with new blossoms.

Parties at Lake Mohawk

Church luncheons abound at the

Pavilion next to the lakeside beach

Concrete floor, cold against the

Raw, sandy feet of playtime

Coming out of the water for the

Potluck buffet, cheesy potatoes,

Dessert salads abounding.

A prayer goes up for the community,

For the healing of souls, or

For donations for the new church.

Small parties too, celebrated.

Confirmation class completion,

Ready for Easter Vigil.

Pungent incense and sweet oils

Will follow close by, but for now

We feast on our collective meal,

Camrederie with the priest before

Our big day.