The Great Wine Disaster of 2022

A healthy pour

Red, a Merlot,

Full-bodied.

I knew the first taste

Before lifting the glass

To waiting lips,

And then

One awkward,

Thoughtless move

Sent the crystal

Lurching,

Slow-motion, yet

Too fast for old

Fingers to find

Purchase,

And wine went

EVERYWHERE:

The floor

Countertop

Inside cupboards

And drawers.

All over my khakis,

The ones with elastic

At the ankles

Harem girl style,

My favorites.

And saddest of all?

There was no wine

Left in the

Bottle.

Dancin’ with the Devil

Guns killed nineteen children

And the incumbent governor

Barely blinked

Aside from thoughts and prayers

Nothing’s been done since ten souls

Perished in Buffalo where

An 18-year-old went gunning for

Black people with hate in his heart

The devil danced

In Orlando and Sandy Hook,

Las Vegas and Charleston,

Columbine and Paducah,

Without blinking

Different faces

Different names

But the devil doesn’t care

And the gun cult extends a hand

For yet another dance.

Clearly, I Have Unresolved Issues

A dream:

I stood in a field

Surrounded by children.

One asked,

Will you mentor me?

I hemmed and hawed

Scratched my head,

Then, yes.

But know I don’t take this lightly.

We drove to a school

Children in plaid skirts and narrow ties

Crowded near.

This is my mentor,

The child said.

She took my hand and we walked

Through archways,

Across sports fields.

We sat at narrow desks.

I thought to ask her name.

Didn’t you know already?

It’s your name, too.

A cat wound our way

Demanded a petting.

The girl smiled.

I’ve named her after us.

Poetry Month, Day Two

My small collection of poetry books includes one by the incredible Billy Collins. Titled, Sailing Alone Around the Room, this book is a treasure. There are so many terrific poems in this book, but I’ll share just one this evening.

The Man in the Moon by Billy Collins

How perfectly Mr. Collins expresses my fascination with the man in the moon.

Peace, people.

Do You Believe in Magic?

That first touch, first kiss

First I love you

Still exist

Somewhere in the archives

Of my soul.

And surely that was magic

Just as the weight of a

Newborn baby in my arms

Is magic.

And sometimes I think

To myself, nobody else,

But you, I suppose

That it’d be a real shame

If all my magic has played out,

Gone to someone younger;

Someone who won’t realize what was afoot

Until wrinkles line their face and

Maybe then it’s too late.

But I tell myself, and you,

That is, those of you who understand,

Our days of magic are now

In the sunsets and warm embraces

Of a gentle love with whom

We’ve grown old.

Vladimir Putin is a Terrorist

Have you seen, though, the video of the Ukrainian woman?

The one who confronts a Russian solder?

She tells him to put flower seeds,

Sunflower seeds, to be specific,

In his pockets so when he dies

On Ukrainian soil

Some good will be left

Behind. And,

So his comrades will know

Where he fell.

The national flower of Ukraine.

Peace, people. Please.

Words and Actions

Yesterday. Oh man.

Words meant something.

I heard heroin,

I heard I’m here for you.

He didn’t know her,

But paid for her food

As she wrestled with

Demons.

Sat and offered something…

Hope? Maybe.

Comfort? Surely.

All I could offer

Were tears,

And those I cried

At home.

Peace, people.

Fire and Rain

James Taylor knew, didn’t he, the pain of

Thinking he’d have one more chance

To hold a hand

To say the words and hear theirs in return

To savor their embrace

Only to be denied these comforts

Forever.

Oh, I always thought that I’d see them

One more time again.

https://youtu.be/EbD7lfrsY2s

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