Cupboard Weather: 17 Weeks: The Conversation

we are caught in the middle
a sentence stopped by
uncertain direction
it will all end inevitably
though we don't know when
iced tea and buttered bread give no clue
we peer into her eyes in wonder
if there are answers there
we don't find them
nor the questions
we are caught up in hesitation
uncertainty plagues us like rain in the morning and we are
caught in the middle

Cupboard Weather: 16 of 52: Juicing the Rose

on your morning walk
stop at the first sight of
a yellow rose
smile
walk on
stop again where you see
an orange rose aflame
gaze until your heart
catches
fire
when almost home
you may spy the apricot rose
breathe its sweet scent
then drunk on petals
stumble
home
to drink iced water
infused with memory of
the rose

Out of the Cupboard: Making Art

The best thing to do
with the news:
Paint your personal

portrait of renewal
as Easter skates in
as a Red Egg

and a Golden Goose

Frayed Cupboard, Windy Weather

The President of the United States
is reading First Corinthians 
Chapter 13 at Forth Hood for the fallen.
For those still within hearing of the bitter,
terminal shots. But what of the frayed
mental health of the soldier lost 
in the brambles of his Earth. The man
who walks through the complex
killing his brothers? How will we unravel
the pulse of confusion? How do we hear
the names that form in the throat of
the chief commander? Stifled
prayer. It is windy outside. There
is an unfurling, a labyrinth of
unanswered questions. Black streamers
flap like an eerie celebration behind
the man at the microphone...

Cupboard Weather: 15 weeks: In the Pink

in the pink season
Spring flickers and dies early
May pirouettes
into April's first few days
while roses rush into the month
not reserved for
them

Forward, inch by inch, in Weather

I see your mouth moving as you 
gather patience like limbs of spring

trees that temporarily make a shade house.
A small place on stilts for birds to rest. As you 

wait, counting trucks that pass the dry place. Soon enough
the divining rod will find you on the road again in weather.

Deserted

we're stuck in Kingman
glad the car did not die an ignominious death
on an alkali flat in the Mojave
but here where the right wing of the far right blathers
about freedom
my throat constricts from the effort to stop the unkind word and the cry please let me go
anywhere but away
away from you
and this dry angry place