Ditty
Poetry unpauses
What can’t be paused.
If successful, implausibly.
For an Hour
Just wavelengths.
Just a covenant of daydreams.
No words.
Fingers pinching the wind.
Poem
A cratered pendant
The moon
Has a mass equivalent to all
The windows open
In the world.
Here and there
A forlorn afternoon
The heart
But it’s present nonetheless
The ache of genius
Autumn.
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naïve haircuts 
A nice treat on a Wednesday! I like that no words fingers pinching the wind. I like it all! From forlorn to genius Autumn. It really is genius the way it all keeps woking out, not the political and destroying ecological, but the natural world of how bees make honey and trees sap and all that and then people triumphing over insanely bad odds like growing up in the Ganges slums.
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Thanks Steve. I’m warming up to autumn. The fist cool breeze, the first frost. I think there is a genius to autumn. And nature does seem to know more then all the politic nonsense.
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Yeh, our four season climate is ideal in my opinion. I get tired of my back getting sweaty while wearing a backpack in summer. Those colder breezes you mentioned with the sun still warm, perfect combo.
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I agree too. If I could just cut out February and March, that would be a perfect calendar.
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Yeh, by February and March, it’s enough already. But we do get the NBA and NHL. That helps.
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I agree. Sports helps get through the winter. Now, if only the Sabres would be relevant in February.
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as long as they’re playing, they are relevant no? I love losers that become winners that become losers again and on and on go our fanaticism eternal..
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love the daring equivalence of that last stanza —
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Thanks, John!!
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Like always, wonderful. I especially like the first — Poetry unpauses What can’t be paused.
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Thanks, Diana!! 😊
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Wow, Bob. All three of these really pack a punch. The images are so strong. I stopped to breathe and absorb after each one. Fantastic.
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Thank you! That’s wonderful of you to say. Much appreciated.
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