"Twenty Years from Now"

if I don't write about this
you won't know that last wednesday
there were two very large armadillos
eating undisturbed at the feeding area
just on the outside edge of gypsys fence
she pointed them until
they wandered away into the woods
today there was a very large opossum
sleeping undisturbed on the branch of a tree
just next to gypsys fence
she held her point
through the fence a long time
when I got back to the cabin
yesterday afternoon it had
snowed dove feathers on the cat porch
a good time was had by all
as I write I see the hummingbirds
finding the spring sweetness
of the blooming yuccas
the crows called to us this morning
as they flew by the cabin
important things we want you to know
twenty years from now

"Plain White Paper"

ink pen in hand
i wrote my name on
plain white paper
i looked at it
and did not know
who it was
ink pen in hand
i printed my name on
plain white paper
i looked at it
and did not know
who it was
i wrote a poem
on plain white paper
and signed my name
i knew who it was
some of me was
left behind on
the plain white paper

"The First Milnor Blend" By Cara and Nick

just hadley and me
and gypsy makes three
we are happy
in our log cabin

a nice warm bottle
a snoozy little nap
always time to cuddle
on grandmas soft lap

the days slipping away
no time for crying
just for more play
can't help trying

gypsys always near
little baby girl
there is no fear
soft dark curls

sheri and mom
in the kitchen together
cooking up a storm
that's my kinda weather

memorial day weekend
a time to remember
those that gave all
no thought of surrender

memories of the past
what a great view
our lives right now
happiness on cue

"Take a Chance"

just sit down
don't be afraid
don't be safe
don't be carefull
don't follow
don't copy
learn from failure
languish in success
what you think
is not what
others think
that is ok
think of yourself
as a tree
with many branches
write about all of them
and things you know
nothing about
places you have never been
take a chance
write

"A Day of Twos and Roses"

early morning
two thunderstorms
first light
gypsy and me
porch perching
two blue herons
in formation
two indigo buntings
feeding
two squirrelly squirrels
two cardinals
drinking
two baby rabbits
playfully jumping
two spring kittens
with mama
two red roses
two hummingbirds
the two of us
two friends
together

"Feelings"

if you have no feelings
your feelings can't get hurt
your lonely spirit
raked through hot coals
finds the flame and burns
the room gets cold
when the fire goes out

"We Still Don't"

there are some things
writers don't live long enough
or like to write about
all kinds of things
why birds don't have arms
why raccoons can't leave
well enough alone
why only the fittest survive
why cats always get
what they want
why we are in such a hurry
asking bright questions
finding dim answers
life is like a movie
holding the final frame
my digestion is slow to flow
when mulling over certain things
a mulching mind works slowly
protecting nurturing saving
some things hit close to home
like twigs and leaves
tapping on the roof
turned loose by the wind
as a storm approaches
years ago we didn't know
when a storm was coming
we still don't

"As the Crow Flies"

6:30am-7:00am
cabin porch
ponderers
the crow flies east
the crow flies west
can't tell which
the crow flies best

"Old Hunting Dog Has Her Day"

gypsy is my english pointer hunting dog
she has lived her 12 years to do one thing
to hunt birds and upon occasion other critters
she picks up their scent tracts them points them
and waits or breaks her point and chases and catches
we are older now and don't walk the fields anymore
but we carry on the the hunting tradition every morning
after she goes outdoors first thing I break and hide
small pieces of dog biscuits around the inside of the cabin
when she comes in extremely excited about this
I go out on her porch and hide some more biscuits
when she comes out and finishes her porch hunt
she sits down next to me as I drink my espresso and bats at my arm
she then shakes hands speaks and sits up for more biscuits
now this is fun for her but not the same as a real live bird
well yesterday good fortune brought us a real live bird
a white winged dove flew into the cabin window on her porch
she was asleep on her sofa as apposed to her highway 281 red leather chair
I ran out to see if the impact had killed the dove
I observed the dove and decided it was struggling
it was going through the final death twitches signifying the end
my decision was to get gypsy and let her have her way with it
I went into the cabin and pryed her off the sofa
I told her bird out here and opened the door to her porch
as her feet softly touched the porch floor she hit a point on the dove
it was still shaking a bit but sitting still
I nudged her telling her it was ok to get it
suddenly there she was bird in mouth one happy dog
she headed out into her fenced area with her prize
when she dropped the dove to clean all the feathers out of her mouth
it tried to fly or run and hit the fence where she retrieved it again
she spent alot of time with this most prized possession
by the end of the day it was gone what a treat raw meat
I will admit but would not want anyone to know
I eyed that dove and the thought crossed my mind
that it would taste pretty good to me for dinner that night
but today it would be gypsy who enjoyed this magnificent bird
by the end of the day there were a couple feathers and alittle raw meat
on the cabin porch floor which she finished before heading back to her sofa
and a night of sweet sweet dreams about dove hunting ending her perfect day
I noticed a big smile on her face as I checked this happy old hunting dog
a loyal superb companion to me for so many years

"Hopping Good morning"

morning delight
hopping into my sight
there is a young rabbit
that comes at first light
who has the birdseed habit
falling seeds to the ground
not making a sound
I see him from the cabin window
above my kitchen sink as I make my way
with my first espresso of my day
his eyes are on the sides of his head
he must be able to see from bed
his ears are so big
he must be able to hear a cracking twig
his nose is always twitching
he must be smelling or itching
he is as quiet as a louse
and not easily frightened
like a mouse in the house
rabbits have found their way
into many stories today
but to have the easter bunny name
must be the their greatest
claim to fame
its said peter rabbits name is best
and they may be right
but what about the rest
their stories are a delight
barely out of our sight
it is a good question
why are they so renowned
when all they do
is just hop around

"My Sisters Sorrow"

I am a son
lost in addiction
my mind betrays me
telling me things
I don't want to hear
things I know aren't true
panic and fear
I plan so the ones
near me won't know
but they do
no place to hide
they hear my slurred words
looking forward
to my secret time
at last a drink a drug
then remorse and guilt
making everything worse
destroying me a cell at a time
sinking down depressed
my family floats away
my friends as well
I will lose everything
struggling in my haze
why can't I say
I need help I have a problem
there are so many who love me
many to help me many I need
so much good in my life
I am a valuable human being
so much to lose
my pain their pain
I will get free of this
they need me


july 23 1993
a son murdered
in cold blood
a wonderful life
taken by fate
a family shaken
to its roots
somehow you go on
left behind
years of tears
to wash
away the pain
unanswered questions
why why why
finally you begin
to remember his life
and why you miss
him so much
things you learned about
in the days after his death
revealing to you
why so many will miss
him so much

"Cedar Posts"

birds sit on the top
of the cedar fence posts
that house gypsys area
and my angel patch

they come to the post
near the cabin window
early in the morning
where I write

a big bluejay
has started coming
each day
looking in at me

he sits near
the jasmine
and morning glories
blooming on the fence

I wave at him
as he stares at me
both wondering
both watching

a sunny morning song
from the woods
serving up its story
on a cedar post

"Secrets"

a river moving slowly
crystal clear water
seeing faces of friends
their images floating
over my watching eyes
their place in ivory memories
reminding me of their importance
standing the secret tests of time
chance meetings meeting chance
common strings connecting
forming each face in the river
caught in times numbered nets
lasting through the past
faces in the quiet river
floating with you
as the river looks back
and returns the secrets
caught in time

"Busy Buzzing Bee"

spiderwort blooming
next to the railing
on the stone steps
on gypsys porch

every morning
we meet there
to ponder
woods activity

the heat has hit
summer is here
wildflowers are blooming
we are watching

a busy buzzing bee
joins us
on the spiderwort
blooming nearby

he dances over
the purple petals
of each flower
content

our ears hear
his busy buzzing
our eyes find him
content

"Sign of The Times"

a sign of the times
new times from old times
old is safe and familiar
buy burma shave stop at stuckies
crease torn map in hand reading glasses
old airstream you and he had together
new places filled with old memories
check for the next campground
get some gas unhook the car
dreaming the same highways again
broken lines and double yellows
two lane roads showing you
when to stop and when to go
trying to revisit the past
so long gone now so sweet
you let today get in your way
so the jasmine and morning glories
would not bloom alone in the warm air
next to the airstream at the campground
lonely hearts searching for ballast
for a new way to balance out the old
hanging on too tightly to the past
when miles filled desires
home is where the heart is
strung on beads from yesterday
you were a sign of the times

"Little White Flower"

little white flower in the snow
white snow piled high
leopard trimmed snowsuit
a wild child in the ohio snow
year after year blooming into
the little white flower
wilting alone in the night
her past destroying the present
yesterday ruining today
running from the night
mistakes holding her in the darkness
that won't let her go
the little white flower
in the bottom corner
waits patiently surrounded
in the square of pictured darkness
the frame around the black square
glowing like a bright white light
the little white flower is
waiting for the next frame
that will be reflected through
the crystal ball lense
film moving missing nothing
watching a flower grow
years flashing on the screen like
an old black and white movie
showing at the princess theatre
on the corner of main street
and vine for a dime
say about 1938
in the darkness
when the little white flower
was just a bud

"Rhymers Reason"

it seems to me
rhyming no rhyme
could only be
poets wasting time

a poet needs rhyme
to finish and start
to write his line
to do his part

a poets rhyme
for all season
is so sublime
rhymers reason

"You Can Be"

you can be away or home
young or old small or big
thin or fat poor or rich
ignorant or smart uneducated or educated
follower or leader liar or truthful
abnormal or normal stagnant or changing
child or adultfather or mother
son or daughter grandfather or grandmother
sick or well hot or cold
crying or laughing sad or happy
foe or friend hater or lover
alone or company walking or running
sitting or standing eating or starving
asleep or awake working or playing
daydreaming or pondering discouraged or hopeful
stingy or generous simple or complicated
watching or acting downstream or upstream
animal or human pursuing or pursued
sour or sweet saint or sinner
carnivore or vegetarian devil or redeemer
reader or writer
dead or alive
be

"Poets Light"

we long for the days
of romance and rhyme
gone in all ways
of another time

lost in years
part of the past
bringing us tears
made not to last

forge on ahead
move into today
its all been read
goodbye naivete

rhymesters only
doing their best
come up lonely
losing times test

can hold your own
if you do it write
standing alone
in a poets light

"Tomato"

don't want to know
how or why tomatoes grow
only when its warm
and need a trellis or a stake
in a garden or a greenhouse
why they are green then red
little then big
why they are happy
on the windowsill for days
and unhappy in the refrigerator
why there are so many different
varieties and uses
why they are so popular
we think they will go far
satisfying every palate
doing all a tomato can do
to end up in your stew

"Last Act"

the lights dim
the curtain goes up
you are in the way
of another day
a favorite theme scene
temporarily out of stock
on an empty shelf
the ferris wheel is
going around and around
moving day in each seat
not physically moving
play moving mentally moving
needing to see more clearly
that which is and that which
cannot be like how it really is
not how you wish in hope
taking care of business
the best you can
trying to stay in place
as you go around and around
with your way lost
trying to imagine what
you will be like in the last act
when the curtain goes down

"Now and Then"

today for some reason
I stopped and washed
my eyeglasses at the sink
like my father use to do
each time he was getting
ready to leave the house
he held his eyeglasses under
the fast flowing water
at the kitchen sink
just touching them with alittle
dish washing soap
then dried them with the towel
that hung on a hook
just below on the cupboard
the top part of his glasses
were dark brown plastic
as were the sides
that went back to his ears
around the bottom
they were a silver metal
they had those
funny little nose guards
I remember how his eyes
looked after he put on
his clean glasses
my father had beautiful eyes
I see them as clearly now
as I did then

"Shadows Fall"

the sunlight fell through
the lace bathroom curtains
onto the soft golden tones
of the logs that make up
the walls of the cabin
making its own shadow pictures
there just touching the corner
of the picture tom took
of the blue cream persian cat
we gave mother so many years ago
giving our eyes just minutes
to see and us minutes to
remember them before
it takes us back
and moves us into today
as it surely will
finding us in its warm light
brushing us with the past
promising us the present
when the shadows of the past
will be ours

"Tomorrow"

today I did not do
what I planned I would
do tomorrow yesterday
things change
time erases good ideas
and bad ideas
that sometimes
give birth back to
the good ideas
the clouds can't
make up their minds either
it was suppose to rain today
the sun is shining
so be it as the spurs
urge the horse hang on
your ride slide
don't miss a stride
tomorrow high tide

"Count to Three"

hearts can only break
so many times
recovering in the music
of slow sad notes
as hurt finds
its strings
eaten away
by decay
no more to say
beware of the fragile
gingerbread all fancy
looking real
if you can
find an end
on the seesaw
be careful
watch out
choose
who gets
the other end
can't you see
out of sight
in the darkness
it will not be
count to three

"box of crayons"

a box of crayons
all our colors
follow a rainbow
find your way
listen like a rabbit
see like an hawk
talk like a mole
mother like a feral cat
practice dogs loyalty
sing like a bird
soar like an eagle
be sly like a fox
love like don juan
give all you can
compassion reigns
you are your thoughts
color your rainbow well