The Ancient Prayer Of Trees

 Ancient Prayer of Trees

Dear Lord,
Most High Creator of  
roots
trunks
bark
branches
leaves
and fruit,

grant me but an inch of loyal dirt,
black and rich with nutrients,
a drop of cooling water, 
and the gentle warmth of morning sun. 

i’ll share my shade with all who linger, 
and cope
(as best i can)

with children's swings, 
heart carvings,
(Phil Loves Katie)
hardheaded woodpeckers,  
and  rickety tree houses.

One more thing:  
please, please, oh please 
forgive me
for bearing silent witness to
lynchings
Amen
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Rosemary

 Rosemary
Toward the end of 6th grade,
on a school field trip, 

Rosemary, 
much larger than I, 

grabbed me hard by the throat 
and kissed me full on the lips. 

I recoiled in horror, and wiped my mouth of it. 

She’s gone now, and she never gave me another.


some nights, late and alone in the dark,

I long for one more,

but, it was a once in a lifetime event.
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Like Bogey and Bacall

 Like Bogey and Bacall

If i were ever to be young again,
i’d cash out my savings,
and start up a yogurt company.

With all due respect,
i’d call it

Humphrey Yogurt,

with flavors like
African Queen–
hot romance and lemon,

Casablanca–
smoky piano and vanilla, 
and

Key Largo–
grave danger and chilled chardonnay.

silly boy that i be.