Pink Moons, Ibis and Grackles

 

Pink Moons, Ibis and Grackles

The Pink Moon was shining last night,

but its not color wasn't the attraction,

for it was still Leto's daughter's chariot

reminding us to look beyond distraction.

Looking for signs of hope to meet change,

for time when blossoms come to shrubs.

The next morning, a flock of White Ibis

returns to the yard, searching for grubs.

The Ibis, strafed by pestering grackles,

bends, stretches, focuses on their work,

bringing joy to those of us marveling,

reminding us to stop being a jerk.

In my mind, grackles try to steal seeds

of concentration, on doing faithful deeds.

When Dream Collide

 

When Dreams Collide

Coming back from mid-afternoon walk,

dog on leash led the walk up the stairs,

one flight - which should have been two,

old man deep in his old man memories,

of time when a girl, her face now lost,

in the curtains of time, but, oh, the laugh,

still lingering, and the old man smiled,

as the dog turned into an entrance,

not the one next floor where home was,

as the old man opening door, wondering,

what had happened to decoration? Then the

new couple moving in, busily unpacking

looked up and nervously smiled at them,

an intruder and dog, in their new dream.

The old man's embarrassed laugh began,

wondering if they were making a smiling,

silent vow to lock the door from now on,

behind memory's curtain, the girl laughed.