Overheard At The Coffee Shop

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Overheard At The Coffee Shop

I do like your hat.
really?
yes. it reminds me of a lampshade 
i once knew.
really?
yes. like you, the lamp wore it slightly askew. 
you mean crooked?
aye. awry. cocked just so over one eye.
really?
yes. it's a fabulous look.
thank you. do you come here often?
here? only to see the hats.

from the Wonderments and Such collection

. . . j

A Modest Request

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A Modest Request

When I grow old and weary, 
legs all atremble,
unable to walk far, 

and my garden—

oh, 

the delightful colors, 
the delicate shapes, 
the delicious scents—

when my garden— 

with eyes weak and bleary,
is too far to see,


then please, 

if you will, 

bring my garden to me.

from the Wonderments and Such collection

. . . j

Solitary Confinement

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Solitary Confinement

Let's Pretend 
Covid 
cannot touch me here, 

In my imagination. 

There are no mandates, 
no quarantines, 
no needles, 
or masks. 

It’s a place filled with 
delightful and dangerous 

thoughts— 

a soaring hawk,
a magic carpet, 
an enemy fighter pilot, 

breathing down my neck

. . . . j

Missing In Action

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Missing In Action

The lover
Of one’s 
Mother.

Ova and Sperm
Well met.
Joined forces.

Biological father,
Or 
Mystery dad?

Suit yourself.
You are free
To frame it.
 
Jack or John or Duncan,
Not sure.
A certainty-  Mr. Boyle.  

We never 
Saw your face.
No photo or sketch.

Were you all smile 
And laughter,
Light hair and freckles?

Like us?

Or someone 
Else
Altogether?

From the Senses and More Such collection

. . . j

A Roofer’s Story

                                A Roofer's Story

                                If you miss me when I am gone,
				Know this—

				Every home is topped by a roof
				That sheds the rain,
				That mutes the sun,
				That slows the wind.

				I climbed the ladder,
				I shouldered the load,
				I nailed the shingles.

				Every home is topped by a roof
				To blunt
				The rain, the sun, the wind

				That comes with life,
				That comes with death,
				
				Remember me thus—
				
				I danced the roof.

                               From the Senses and More Such collection

                               . . . j	

A Little Help From My Friends

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A Little Help From My Friends

Having fought a strong headwind most of the trip,
the reindeer were exhausted and desperately needed
to rest, so Santa set her down somewhere near
Helena, Montana in the U.S.A.

Off in the distance Santa could see a sign that read
Mo's Used To Was Wrecking Yard, and a bit further 
on another sign that claimed to be the Alright Corral
Dude Ranch.

About then a lone horseman rode out of the swirling
snow and "whoa boy" upped. "Howdy," he said.
"Looks like you might need some help there, pardner."

Santa, jovial no matter what the balls and strikes
count against him was, managed a big smile and a 
hearty "Ho, ho, ho. Indeed I do, young man. My 
reindeer are plain tuckered out, and I've got miles
to go before I sleep."

The cowboy smiled and said, "I've got Jenny, best mare
in Montana, parked in that barn over yonder. You're more
than welcome to use her if you like. She's a flying 
machine."

Santa agreed to swap out his reindeer for Jenny, just for 
the night of course, and in a flash, Jenny was strapped in, 
harnessed up, and more than willing to help Santa deliver 
his packages all around the world.

Just before take-off, the cowboy doffed his hat, leaned in
close and drawled, all Montana cowboy like, "May the horse
be with you, Mr. Claus."

The End

. . . j