Old pieces of the puzzle of life,
Bits faded and edges ragged.
Uneven, they’ve lost their fit.
They fall away, many forgotten.
New pieces, crisp edges,
Adding to the unknown image,
With an unknown edge.
A puzzle without a picture.
Blue screen of death
Blue, blue, blue
And no return
Total reset required
(Thank you Backup!)
Clean the slate
Start fresh like it is
Four years ago
Clear away the tech detritus
What did I really lose?
Great horned owl hooting
Echoed by a dark partner
Nocturne of the wild
City east, farm west
The edge of suburbia
Edges blur when the owl
Speaks to me across the dark
Ancient water pressed into rock
Markings of a billion years
Time unknown before the clock
Ticked inanely in our ears
Ancient water, once it flowed
Across these plains now hot and dry
The same hot sun has always glowed
In the same brilliant and bold blue sky
Ancient water springing anew
The same water all Earth life has shared
Cleanse the world, wash my view
Bring solace to all life repaired
Ancient water, the cycle repeats
From life to sea to sky and down
Future times and travelers meet
Drape Mother Earth in her watery gown
A red chair, a soft pillow,
By the open window waits.
Outside, the day is still.
The tree leaves dangling,
A perfect place to read a book
To sip wine, to listen,
To be still and enjoy
Writing a poem oft falls flat
Like a balloon at the claw of a cat.
Ideas lapse, fade and fumble.
I find myself start to mumble about all that.
Coalescing schemes might bear fruit
If I can force them like a brute.
Interrupted, I might stumble.
Irritated, I might mumble, “Where is the root?”
A branching tree of nouns and verbs.
My limp enthusiasm curbs.
The verse again fails to appear,
My washed brain unable to steer the poet blurbs.
My wordy tree branch starts to crack;
Inspiration sky fades to black.
A unrhyming weight buries me
Beneath the unpoetic tree dying out back.