Of Love and Things

black friday
pop up ads
vanity fair
folded perfume

possess, covet
objects of pride
I’m better than you
insistence that

moneyed hierarchy
is the answer
will solve
all woes

sorry, not sorry
to say, this
accumulating life
is wasting time

on things (and
you’ve heard this
before), stuff won’t
make you happy

but instead, yes
love, it is
so simple
also free

Country Music

Charley Pride on bathroom
laptop, while I shave, his voice
forlorn longing, whiskers
collect on razor’s edge, this
morning mirror apart from wife
and son. I feel for Merle Haggard,
travails, time on the road, love
found and lost, like Loretta Lynn
in Topeka, daydreaming of that
different life, away from crumpled
hamper laundry and the last
cereal bowl bits clinging to old
milk. Somewhere in Nashville
they are still singing with Jesus,
waiting for my return.

Higher Power

we rarely speak
of God that
him her force
lives in heaven
forests oceans everywhere

we pray to
be always in
good stead with
each moment where
light is ours

this karma knowing
watching to see
if we are
truly in his
image like clouds

floating peace through
sky we try
meditating while walking
the quiet path
of constant love

and one day
may we arrive
wherever there is
union with all
that ever was

At 80 Years Old

If I wanted, every day could be a funeral.
So simple, just put a name into the computer,

wait for the obituary to pop up. Those older guys
are gone, my coaches, teachers, even that camp

counselor from Pine Island, up in Maine, he
could hold his breath underwater for 2 minutes.

Never thought they’d all go away, but there’s
the little candle, Legacy.com warming the screen

with another smiling photo. I read all the comments,
deeply miss her, sincere condolences, with such

a heavy heart. And I feel the weight of age with my
scrolling fingers, try to remember the last time I

saw him, her. What did we talk about? Maybe I’ll
google their kids, see where they ended up.

Minutes pass and I close the laptop,
pretend they’re all still alive.