Long conversationsbeside blooming irises —joys of life on the road— Bashō On the Road: iris detail (Credit: Geo Davis) Conversation — the currency of voyagers and flaneurs — and blooming — the byproduct of a peripatetic path — are *among* the joys. So many joys… ...
Poetry
Coffee Ring
Coffee Ring Excerpt (Source: Geo Davis) Some mornings manifest with déjà-vu-esque familiarity. This morning. The clock sighed backwards into a poem that was born early in this meandering middlescence, about six years ago. Coffee RingMorning’s lazy flyAnd I consider theCoffee ring phantomOf your mug half full.No grinds to read.Only lingering scents,The dregs of youth,The dross of ...
We Can Fly
"Come to the edge," he said. "We can't, we're afraid!" they responded. "Come to the edge," he said. "We can't, We will fall!" they responded. "Come to the edge," he said. And so they came. And he pushed them. And they flew. — Guillaume Apollinaire ...
Benign
Dermatology visit. Yes, a poem about body dots! This up-close-and-personal (too personal?!) account is approximately midway through a poem about my first dermatologist appointment. He touches a mole on my neck then dips darting eyes to my chest, to hairy, pigmented spots and rough, pinkish patches. Seborrheic keratosis. Solar lentigo. Normal. No cause for concern. These middle years ...
Pause
It's still Saturday—slow, slothful, slightly soulful—Saturday morning. For another hour. I awoke early and discovered the weather to be incompatible with plans. I went back to sleep and reawoke late. Really late. Then lazy breakfast with bride and nephews and nephews' companions. Revised plans. Excursion for them; rainy day water coloring and poetry editing for me. Calm. Mostly quiet except for ...
Hazmat
What?!?! Have I totally lost the plot, you're thinking, right? One might well wonder lately if we've all lost the plot. Tempestuous times. Wacky ways; weird days. Too much vitriolic verbosity. Too little tolerance. Too little curiosity... Beware the tox- ic rumor mill, which sits unground, on dusty sill. The lines above come from a reflection on toxicity and tolerance and combinatorial ...