the feel-good muscle-flex
of seasonal chores & yardwork —
tree-trimming, leaf-raking
and stick-gathering,
with the occasional burst of green
poking up through the soil,
further proof that spring
is most certainly on its way

the feel-good muscle-flex
of seasonal chores & yardwork —
tree-trimming, leaf-raking
and stick-gathering,
with the occasional burst of green
poking up through the soil,
further proof that spring
is most certainly on its way
a torrent of words, skillfully arrayed —
characters, adventures, ideas, concepts and imagery,
every clever notion written with care,
using signs and symbols and tokens of language
to feed and nurture our imaginations —
writers and poets, explorers all, I salute you!
the unexpected arrival
of a waylaid birthday card,
banged up & battered,
postmarked three weeks prior ~
lost, somehow,
in the post office shuffle

zoology was not on my radar —
you knew that better than anyone, your
x-ray vision exposing my every weakness,
wild extrapolations I could not be held responsible for,
vindications souring like fermented wine,
usurping fanatical tongues
thick with unwarranted lies, fabrications
slickened with vicious outrage,
resourceful in their clever
quintessential civic demeanors, nibbling
pralines, pretzels and prawns — somber
overtures devoid of quiet
nocturnal memories, etchings of
Montgomery, Alabama in spring,
lemon tree lovers
kept in the dark, spirited
junctures of time, the endearing
individuality, the oozing charisma
hovering on a far-fetched periphery —
garnets of an abandoned childhood,
frank discussions over Spaghetti-O’s,
elegant petit fours and Black Cherry Kool-Aid —
dinner trays at Auntie June’s, sitting on her kitchen sofa,
cat hair adhering to black velvet,
back when the Internet was nobody’s pipe-dream,
AI not yet invented to keep you from living your very best life

smudges of green,
teases of spring —
hints of evermore
life to be lived
I await the earthworms
April showers unleash
& the green once buried
beneath winter’s rime
a hazy darkness
in the southern sky
let’s play
one more game
This morning, I sent the following message to Charles Grassley, Iowa’s Republican senator which was immediately ‘bounced back’. Apparently, he doesn’t wish to hear from his constituents.
I’ve contacted his office over the years including a particularly angry and frustrated missive following the deaths of Renee Good and Alex Pretti in Minneapolis. This is the first time my emails have come back undelivered.
Therefore, I’m voicing my displeasure with the current state of affairs here. My email, with the Subject line reading simply ‘Iran’, went like this:
NOT PLEASED!!
This deranged “president” of destruction is a clear and present danger to the magnificence of what this country used to stand for.
We are now mocked and scorned by the rest of the world. Oh. Unless you’re a dictator / authoritarian regime!
I think it’s official. The disjointed “united” states of America is an autocracy.
More than ever, I fear for our future.
Congress has ceded far too much power to Trump. We’re at war and he has not consulted with Congress. He has not made the case for his Epstein-distracting Iran war to the public. His “justification” for the attacks changes nearly hour to hour. He hasn’t held a news conference.
Do we need also fear the US will kick off a nuclear attack?
Aren’t you concerned, Senator? Have you no shame? Where is your defense of the Constitution you were sworn to uphold?
There has been so much outrage since he came on the scene. It’s exhausting. We all just want to live our lives, be safe, happy and healthy without all this continuous garbage. Argh! Our country is in the toilet!! Don’t you and your Republican cohorts care?
Or is remaining in power the only thing that matters to you guys?
Judy’s number prompt for this week’s challenge is 236. Here’s the pics from my archive that fit the bill.












curtains drawn back
in winter’s bluster,
prior to even
a hint of dawn,
rare and intermittent
proof of life
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