Reservations

Discarded baby

Doll’s kewpie mouth serenely

Smiles while cars drive by

Note: I was driving down the busy interstate yesterday and noticed a vintage style doll sprawled carelessly on the shoulder of the road. No other detritus surrounded the discarded doll. Weird, right? I’d have gone back to retrieve her, but I-10 isn’t all that conducive to stopping.

Cinderella, Dressed in Yellow

Sketch a girl in black and white,

Pigtails flying, slapping against a plaid shirtwaist

Skinny sun browned legs skip-hopping to a rhythmic chant

Cinderella, dressed in yellow,

Went upstairs to kiss a fellow.

Made a mistake and kissed a snake,

How many doctors did it take?

Rope twirls ’round, up, then down, over and over again.

All in the wrist, she thinks as she counts, “One, two…twenty…ninety,” and beyond.

So many doctors! She can jump all day, or at least until recess ends.

In Her Dreams

Hovering on the

Edge of nothingness

Visions quiver ‘neath closed lids

Watchful

Hoping, yet

In the fourth state

No kingdoms conquered

No triumphs over death’s grip

Nary a prince kissed

At the very least

Shouldn’t she be the hero,

Star in her own dreams?

Artist Kinga Britschgi

From a Beatles’ Song

Is today misspent

If tomorrow never knows

And yesterday’s gone?

Often I wonder

What reward is forthcoming

For surviving now

While demagogues rant

And keep children in cages

While walls divide us

I was listening to the radio yesterday afternoon and heard a reference to the Beatles’ song “Tomorrow Never Knows.” I had to pull over to listen and to jot down the first part of this poem that came to me in an instant.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=RDpHNbHn3i9S4

Tide Table

Bare toes, blue water

Minutes stretched thin across time

Watching tide’s return

Sand pipers scurry

Shy of ripples’ foamy touch

Dashing to safe shore

Footprints on the beach

Now you see them, now you don’t

Magical sunset

(Note: I’m tired of being sick and writing about being sick, so I went to the beach in my mind. The photos are all from Pinterest.)

Standards

Firmly established

Benchmarks of true excellence

One’s personal best

Quality measured

Quantity notwithstanding

Who sets the standard?

Do leopards count spots?

Does spring’s robin rank his songs?

Ah, humanity!

This was inspired by my friend Marty, who writes a terrific blog, snakesinthegrassblog.com. The content in Marty’s blog is always outstanding. He provides useful information in an entertaining format, and I always look forward to his posts. He subscribes to a high personal standard of writing.

Recently I shared with Marty that some days I really don’t feel like writing anything, but at the same time I hate to let the blog wither. I’m not reluctant to sacrifice quality for quantity. Is that a sad thing? Should I begin holding myself to a higher standard? But as I asked Marty, “Why start now?”

This silly blog sustains me in a weird way. To paraphrase Descartes, “I write, therefore I am.”

Peace, people.