Is it the night sky, in my nights
As in my days, an urban force
That greets me, twinkling as if
Bulbs were stars or fluorescent
Lights completely natural? In
Our habitat they are. Of course.
Off course. Don't veer so far as
To look for a pole, either north
Or south to guide you to your
Residence. Look just a few, a
Very few blocks to the west or
East, really in any direction to
Find your way home. All the
While enjoying the night sky.
Dogs or cats?
Dogs. Cats. Funny animals.
Smart puppies. Silly cats. All
Wise. Sage cats, secure in
Who they are. Playful dogs,
Worrying a stick or fetching
A ball. My dog never did that!
Fetch or even "go, get it, boy"
Was beyond his remit. Tug at
His leash hard enough to drag
My 10 year self along the street.
Dogs. Cats. Companions and
Friends. Anthropomorphisized
To their harm and maybe ours.
Dogs, cats, pals and playmates.
The red line in the sky illuminates
Not only my view but also guides
My reminiscences. There've been
Others, just like that or so similar
As to be a twin, a triplet, a dozen.
Who forgets when beauty leads?
It looks so clear, so clean, so crisp
Deceptively so. The heat. The heat.
Too hot to enjoy staying out under
The sky. Its sharp lines, its pillowed
Clouds look light and airy, but they
Are heavy and weighted with heat.
Enveloping like a soggy blanket at
Your feet. Deceptively calm, pretty,
So welcoming. Too hot in this heat.
Across two nights across the
Night sky lit from within lit by
A waning sun a rising moon
My skyline offers me drama
With a touch of dramamine.
That last bit is just an LOL or
A "ha" not an aha. There is a
Peace in its symmetry and in
Just how nature blends then
Highlights what man clearly
Is building across two nights
Across the night sky lit by a
Setting sun, or, by electricity,
From within or by the moon
The sun creates both sunlight
And shadow each an inverse
Of the other. It's shadows that
Seem the stronger one, written
On the granite face of the walk.
Elusive markings dependent on
Time of day position of the sun
Where they fall they also lead as
If they were breadcrumbs in a
Tale of Hansel or Gretel in their
Escape from a witch who only
Wants to fatten them, her cook
Pot awaiting the moment; they
Awaiting the run-for-it that sets
Them free. Shadows in a forest,
Following the crumbs that birds
Have messed on the way home.
Out of the shadows into the light.
What is your favorite genre of music?
Rhythm banging melodies rising
Riding the waves of sound where
Beats meet tempo and merit our
Attention. "And a one and a two."
Songs tell us love stories or speak
To heartbreak, hope, or character.
A scherzo, a pastiche, a sonata,
A symphony let us dream our own
Words. Drums and xylophones in
The big parade; trumpets, flutes or
Tamborines, pianos, and violins too
Say what we have known all along
She walks her summer walk
More a languid strut full of
Hips and promise. Languid
And languorous, relaxed yet
Sultry. She moves slowly in
The heat, in measured steps.
Her allure is as evident, as
It is subdued. She is in no
Hurry to captivate or arouse
Hither and yon is an old-style
Perhaps, even an out-moded,
Mandate, a directive that also
Might suggest a scatter-shot
Charge, a bit of indeciveness,
Forgetfulness in the absent
Minded style. Hither, yon, yet
There's no waffling out of a
Desire to run out the clock.
Yes, you go back-and-forth.
But with no intention other
Than earnest toing or froing
In search of who knows what.
If not this then what?
What will inspire me if
The blinding ring of the
Sun fails to bring words
Rushing forth to describe
To capture to encapsulate
Its fiery splendor? Do I
Need more reinforcement
A bigger vocabulary, more
Colorful and spicier then
The one I use every day.
Is awe overwhelmed by the
Sharp but edgy sphere I
See setting to my west?
Tamara, really