Final Leaf Collection Later This Week

In this part of Maryland, homeowners have raked and blown leaves from their lawns into giant piles by the side of the road to be collected by the county government.

                      Final Leaf Collection Later This Week              

                  The brown leaf piles lie like burial mounds,

                  like time-worn mountains, like sand

                  dunes standing sentinel along the curbside

                  shore of a slender asphalt sea, a rising

                  river, a cracked and patched canal.

                  Or like light umber waves ready to break

                  upon a tarmac strand as one side’s

                  ebb is always another’s flow, depending

                  on which way the cold winds blow.

 

Turning Back the Clock at Two A.M.

Some more thoughts about setting the clock back an hour in the fall.  (In the U.S. we do that at 2:00 A.M.  while other countries do it at 3:00 or 4:00.)

                                     

                  Turning Back the Clock at Two A.M.

                        means we relive one hour

                        every year when most of us

                        are asleep and unaware

                        whether we dream the same

                        dreams again or take the time

                        to start afresh with higher

                        hopes replacing faded fears.

                        and if we awoke beside

                        our soundly sleeping former

                        self, what would we dare whisper

                        in our ear: wake up and see

                        what you’re missing – or rest when

                        you can; the rising sun knows

                        only its own standard time.

                      

                       

Falling Back

The Monday after we turn the clocks back in the fall, I always feel I'm missing something.


                             

                                                    Falling Back

                                      (on the return to standard time)

                                    Why does the sun say I’m late  
                                    when my watch says I’m early
                                    now that it’s dawn when it was
                                    dark before?   We can calibrate
                                    the clocks, but our bodies know
                                    better. Each gain feels like a loss
                                    when there’s always something
                                    we’ve forgotten but cannot ignore. 

                                   

Extra Sensory Deception

This was written after a bout of "benign positional vertigo."

                                      Extra Sensory Deception

                                                1.
                                          Balance

                                    Our inner ear

                                    does more than hear;

                                    it tells us where
                                   
                                    we’re bound.

                                    But when inflamed,

                                    it plays a game

                                    and says what’s up

                                    is down.

 

                                                2.

                                            Depth

                                    Our inner eye

                                    does more than spy

                                    what things are near

                                    or far.

                                     It looks inside

                                    past things we hide

                                    and tells us who

                                    we are.

 

                                            3.

                                        Humor

                                     The inner voice,

                                     it has no choice

                                     but to say what’s

                                    absurd.

                                     When white is black

                                    we want what we lack

                                    and a laugh is the

                                    final word.