Observation – August 5th, 2020, Wednesday

The scent of garlic and curry the apartment

 

I made a pot of lentils

 

For the first time in weeks the air conditioner is silent

 

The windows are open for a cross breeze

 

A dappled light comes in through the east windows

 

Filtered through the green leaves

 

Kitty is complaining about the taste of medicine in her food

 

The dry and dusty chondroitin that helps her with her joints

Observation – June 5th, 2020, Friday

The city is green

It is summer and it is quiet—right now, at 4:00 pm

If I think about it

I can recall the sounds of gunfire

That woke me up in the middle of the night

The quiet lays on Minneapolis like a green veil

The city is restive

The demand for justice is simmering, now

Seven days ago, we were at a roiling-boil

I can smell the ashes lingering—still

The chemical scent of unnatural fire

Scratching in my throat

Observation – May 5th, 2020, Tuesday

It is a bright morning

There is a plane flying overhead, though the city is quiet

There is a robin chirping in the tree outside my window

My lady is working at loom, weaving on a hoop

Kitty is begging for butter

Seventy thousand Americans will have died

From complications due to COVID-19

By the end of today

The news is increasingly grim

There are politicians telling us to prepare

Be ready to lose more

Americans must be ready to sacrifice

Like they did in World War II

This time we march into the jaws of a faceless beast

To feed an economy, that is hungry for our lives

As valuable as kibble, scattered on the floor

The Muse

I love you, he says
Confused, stumbling over words
Prayerful supplicant

I seek clarity
Whispers the poet, and wisdom
She smiles invitingly

Red lips part slightly
Revealing sharp teeth, bright-white
Like diamonds flashing

Lead me to the truth
By your beauty, and goodness
Your willing servant, I

He says, withdrawing
Drugged as the lotus eaters
Hallucinating

She opens her eyes
Deep-blue pools, like cobalt fire
Burning without light

She embraces him
The wretched poet, victim
Drowning in the night

Observation – April 5th, 2020, Sunday

The house smells of peppers

And garlic and onions

The rising sun lights up the sky

Soft blue, almost white

The street is quiet, quieter than usual

So quiet I can hear the gears turning

In the empty bus that rolls by

The birds have noticed the change

The fox and the coyote too

There are fewer people to contend with

Fewer cars and people walking

Fewer things to fear

Observation – March 5th, 2020, Thursday

It is 5:27 in the morning

Kitty is yowling for attention

She is unhappy with the food in her dish

She wants something different

Something fresh

She doesn’t want the supplement I give her

To strengthen her joints, and her back legs

She is seventeen and getting arthritic

She wants to play

She cannot jump anymore

She does not like to play string

While laying on the floor

I lift her to the window

So she can watch the dark street

Observation – February 5th, 2020, Wednesday

It is chilly outside, but not cold for February

The sun is shining through a cloud filled sky

Pale patches of blue speak of an early spring

Kitty is sleeping by the window as I write

I am listening to the news, it is a sad day

Donald Trump is to be acquitted of his crimes

America has become a lawless place, maybe

It always was a place of deep divisions

Where the laws are applied differently

On behalf of the rich and against the poor

Maybe nothing has changed at all, America

Is just naked now, reveling in all its flaws

Observation – January 5th, 2020, Sunday

The sky is bright, light
Blueish-gray, matted by clouds
Thin as wisps of frost

There are a few leaves
Dried things that cling to the trees
Flutter in the breeze

Outside my window
Dark limbs stretched across the pane
The old glass cascades

It bends the soft light
Waving in its fluid state
Windows on the world

Observation – December 4th, 2019, Wednesday

Observation
The sun is shining

The snow is already melting in the light

It is warm this December morning

Everything is blurry outside my window

My eyes are still adjusting to the surgery I had

I can hear the spray from the tires of the cars passing by

Dirty-gray slush and salt covering the street

There is ice on the road and it is slippery

There is not a cloud in the sky

Only jets leaving contrails

And black-birds in flight