The wannabe coach
thinks we need his opinion
EVERY dang play
June 21
On June Twenty One
the sun remains suspended
its season is here
Sound the Retreat
More and more
I long for
an isolated place
with a dark sky
and water lapping
A Foul Pole
Fishscale foul pole
sun glints in the deep blue sky
Standing tall
stands alone, far from home
and farther from it’s mate
This is an object overlooked
but in fleeting moments
In that moment the sphere soars
Left?
Right?
All eyes on it
for an instant
most important
2 in the Morning
Clear sky showing stars
Underfoot snow is squeaking
Feels like two degrees
Post Election Advice
The ballots are cast
But they are still counting
Predictions come faster
Than a fire hose fountain
Despite our exhaustion
The pundits still talk
Relax, take a nap
Perhaps a long walk
If booze is your thing
Try that too
Whoever you are
You should be you!
Cicadas Sing Summer’s Swan Song
Cicadas return
They now sing summer’s swan song
The sun will set soon
Ash Wednesday Haiku
Asking my Lord’s help
Keep me from hypocrisy
Today and always
We are here again
Mid-August arrives
Yellow buses fill the streets
Summer always ends
Late summer scene
Windows are open
Chirps of crickets in the breeze
A soft summer night