Understanding

On Father's Day
I remember Dad
 His practical jokes
  His anger
   His love
    His Temper
     His laugh
      His frustration at life
       His creativity 
and now
at 53
11 years older than he ever was
I understand

Entrenched

The lines are drawn
my side, your side

We walk our lines
back and forth, forth and back

A rut appears, two in fact
one on my side, one on yours

Our lines are marched
my side, your side

We never waver
never look at the other, never step out of our rut

So

Rut becomes trench
knee then thigh, waist then chest deep

We march on
we never waver, never look nor climb out

Fear of what might happen
bars us from communication

Quiet separation is safe
separation from argument is feared

We march on
trench deeper that we are tall

We march on still

Scattered (rejected four and twenty submission)

When the bond between a family
is removed by chance
and scattered to the winds
the family may come apart

Legit

To be legit
do poems always have to be deep?
Do they need to burst open
spilling metaphor
simile
or can they just be about anything
like the young doe
standing in the woods across the driveway
from my window
like a statue
silent
but for the sound of green maple leaves
being ground between her teeth
her eyes fixed
on the movement in the window
as a middle aged man
writes about poetry.

Returned

She went away my little girl
sure she was seventeen
but she'd always been around
my kid
my daughter
my friend
yes, singing

She was always responsible
smart and funny
musical and funny
emotional
kind, apathetic and funny
yes funny

Then she went away
today she returned

Different

More poised
More confident
More
Grown up
Less a teen
more an adult

Different

And yet
still
wickedly
brilliantly
funny.

For the Love of Cat

It seems that to some
that I hate a certain cat
just because I used his call
as a punctuation mark in a previous poem.

That I hate this certain cat
is not the case at all.
His meows serve as a punctuation mark in another poem
and only as that, like the shout of a man.

Not the case at all
this perceived dislike of said feline
and just like the shout of a man
his attention can be welcomed at times.

This perceived dislike of said feline
is not always a correct read of the relationship.
His attention can be welcomed at times,
late at night watching tv is one such time.

A correct read of the relationship
would be one of mutual understanding,
of a shared love late night TV
while absentmindedly scratching between a pair of furry cat ears.

Groton Awakens

The hush of the morning breeze
whispers through aged pines
The rush of tires on asphalt
As an unseen car moves an unseen driver
Closer to the start, or end I guess, of a workday

Meow

The birds begin to wake
Softly at first
Then, as more and more of them awaken
The chorus grows louder and louder
Filling the near stillness with a multitude of calls

Meow, meow

A squirrel scurries in fits and starts
Across the shingle roof outside my window
An acorn, not yet ripe falls from the oak out front
And hits the slate walk
Heard this morning where as the sound would pass unnoticed later in the day

Meow, meeeoooww, meow

Then there's the cat