Under the Fan Palm, Page 3

lawn

  With sparkling bits of ice.

  Now I must make my bed

  And sleep, for I am old,

  Too old for rose red skies

  That reek of inflamed lust.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Red-Winged Blackbird

  My native fields were fenced

  In wire and post, and thereon

  Blackbirds frequently roosted

  Declaring boundaries

  No other bird should pass.

  She was fond of them,

  My mother’s grandmother,

  Recalling how they sang

  In the Kansas fields she knew

  As a child. The sweet recall

  Of happy days brought smiles

  To her face and light to her eyes,

  And I was privileged to see

  The girl inside the woman.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Coulter’s Daisies

  Small purple daisies near timberline

  On wiry stems with hairy leaves

  Nod greeting to the paintbrush flowers

  Each time the breeze passes. No pine

  Forest there. It’s fir and spruce

  Above the aspen groves and parks,

  Above the range of deer and elk

  Where marmots play and pikas retire

  At night. Ahead one saw the pass

  Between two peaks and the winding trail

  To the other side of the mountain range.

  I walked the trail through talus and grass

  In the long ago when she still reigned,

  And held my affections tightly chained.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Uncompanioned

  The laughing boy

  And giggling girl

  Frolic on the coverlets.

  They play

  All unaware

  Death’s shadow hangs

  Somber over them. As all

  Of us

  Have lived our lives

  Ignoring death,

  Have we excuse to mock them

  For this?

  I grieve the loss

  Of ignorance.

  Death surrounds me with its pall

  Of gloom.

  I’ve no lover

  Spouse or other

  To frolic with on a bed.

  Alone

  I sleep and wake

  Uncompanioned

  Except for the cat and dogs

  Most hours.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Quetzalcoatl

  Long ago in Mexico

  The Aztec reigned supreme, empowered

  By Quetzalcoatl, serpent god

  Adorned with feathers, white of skin,

  Destined to be the morning star.

  Cortez came over the sea

  And marched to Tenochtitlan City.

  Poor Aztecs gave their gold and silver

  Believing Cortez was their god

  Newly returned to lead the folk.

  Gulled by the cruel Conquistador

  Cholula nobles died in blood,

  A Spanish sacrifice of hearts.

  And then Cortez took Tenochtitlan

  And burned it down. Old history,

  A testament to human pride

  Run amok, a lesson for all.

  Preserve me, Quetzalcoatl god,

  From Cortez and his ruthless kind.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Hurrah

  Hurrah for lovers young and free,

  Two who sit with their hands and hearts

  Joined they hope for eternity,

  Or at least for a lifetime it should be

  Their prime connection with another,

  The other with whom they share the bother

  Life brings to all its moving parts.

  Hurrah for lovers old and wise,

  Who have a long practice of love

  To season their romantic play

  With all the memories that rise.

  May those whose loves are in the grave

  Rest assured of reunion someday.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Conundrum

  She I wed I hold a riddle.

  At times I grieve her betrayal of me,

  At other times I joy in her leaving.

  Had she not left, I might never have found

  The man who brought me out of myself

  And became the mainstay of my life.

  I search my soul, and find two minds:

  Remembering she left me for

  Other men I generate

  Great rage, but on the other hand,

  Had she not left I’d never had

  The joy of living life with Ken.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Beach Summer

  Summer boys in Speedos tan

  In the sun reflected from the sea.

  Bikini-clad the girls have run

  Through the surf so merrily.

  Now the sharks swim down the beaches

  Overhead a seagull screeches;

  She lost,

  Great cost!

  Fish she liked to eat the most.

  Pinnipeds have waddled up

  Onto the sand to mate their kind,

  Or perhaps to drowse and sleep,

  Or enjoy the cooling breath of wind

  Blowing from the white-topped ocean

  Where the waves are in constant motion

  And there

  Boys wear

  Speedos with a youthful flair.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Oyster Girl

  Little lady why

  Do you stand long hours to shuck

  The hard-shelled oysters?

  Does your knife slip sometimes?

  Are your feet tired at day’s end?

  Oyster girl, do you

  Eat the mollusks you shuck

  With a fiery sauce,

  Do you fry them with batter,

  Or do you never eat oysters?

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  I Wonder

  I wonder as I wander the roadways

  Why leaves drop in forests and water

  Flows downhill. I never get answers.

  The makers of the cosmos are silent.

  No matter. The day and the evening

  Come ‘round in due course as always.

  I wander the roadways and wonder

  About the inquiries unanswered

  By cosmos-making celestials.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Irises

  The irises are blooming now

  In this foreign place I live. At home

  The irises would bloom in May.

  We cut them from the flower garden

  And took them to the cemetery

  To decorate the graves of our dead.

  Other folk have died since then.

  They lie in places where flowers are banned,

  Unless they are of the plastic kind.

  How odd it is to see the iris

  Bloom blue and white and black and yellow

  And know they will not decorate

  The graves of my ancestors or kin

  Or any other’s dear departed.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Tell Me Tales

  Tell me tales of pirate ships.

  Sing me songs of outer space.

  Tumble stories from your lips.

  Tell me wonders that will amaze.

  Never fear, for I will hearken

  ‘Till the eastern heavens darken

  And night

  Grows bright

  With the moon’s white light.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  The Boy’s Sparrow (After Catullus’ Poem 3)

  My boy has lost his sparrow; it is dead.

&
nbsp; The bird beguiled his idle hours with chirps

  And fluttered wings. My poor boy lies abed

  Mourning his loss; to him it’s so severe,

  It upends his equanimity. It usurps

  The quiet of his mind with deep despair.

  The sparrow lies in a shallow grave all cold,

  Melding with earth and dust, a fate we all

  Shall have in our turn. I came to him with beer.

  He waved me away and almost began to scold,

  Then turned his face toward the boudoir wall,

  Too sad to talk, almost too sad to weep

  Withdrawing himself into a mental shell

  And drifting off into a troubled sleep.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Ancestors

  I shall not mourn them,

  The ancestors long deceased.

  They died in their time

  Of age or ills or boredom,

  Or accidents of some kind.

  They lie peacefully

  In scattered graveyards across

  The country’s Midwest

  Not turning to haunting their kin.

  I’m glad they sleep undisturbed.

  Their struggles are done,

  Their birthing and their wedding

  Dramas are finished.

  Do not disturb their resting;

  They earned eternal repose.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  The Cuckoos

  In old Japan the cuckoos

  Carried messages

  From living folk to dead ones.

  At least the Shinto priests

  Believed it true, and so,

  I suspect, did Buddhist monks,

  And common folks as well.

  I’d send a message now

  To my well-loved departed,

  If cuckoos were near me.

  Only jays and robins

  Reside near me. Not even

  A clock with cuckoos near,

  I fear, not even kindred

  Roadrunners live near me.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Clouds Ride the Wind

  Clouds ride the wind with skill and grace.

  The sun has hid its smile

  Behind the racing clouds for now.

  And the moon and stars are pale

  With fear of storms and wind and rain.

  It shall not last forever.

  The clouds shall flee on the racing wind

  And think themselves so clever.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  The Small Rain

  The small rain down may rain.

  The ocean’s breath is cold

  With damp and smells of salt.

  The small rain breathes the air,

  Water-laden, that the seas

  Cast in the wind and send

  Across the rocky shores

  That gird them round with cliffs.

  Rain on us, lest we wither

  Parched as corn on a cob.

  Rain down small rain; refresh

  Us. Do not drown us, we ask.

  Table of Contents--Index of First Lines

  Pindaric Ode

  Invoke Olympian gods and goddesses

  Or use the charms your deities require

  To celebrate the victors’ winning ways

  In games of skill; now praise

  The young men in their prime of life,

  Who run and jump

  Delighting in their youthful glory days.

  Do not bow down to salaries and fame

  Not earned by practicing athletic skill.

  Instead rejoice in watching those who earn

  Their laurels