In search of story


September 22:20: Coping

It seems to me

there’s an obvious plot

to get my goat

(which is got a lot).

How else explain

these mortal remains,

matted and framed,

among the day’s banes?

A villainous move,

a deliberate ploy,

to irritate, vex,

to taunt and annoy.

There was nothing to do

but take all apart

and grouse at the bug

who thought he was art.




September 21.20: Coping

Gather ye zinnias

while ye may,

and salute not much

with patchwork nosegay.

With spikes of cool lavender,

chrysanthemum puff,

in little glass pitchers

not much is enough.

It doesn’t take big

to bring joy to our eyes;

the palette of zinnias

is its own giant size.



With apologies to Robert Herrick,

and thanks to my dear friend Donna for the zinnia seeds!




September 10.20: Coping

The recipe,

that work of art,

bequeathed from bubbling

kitchen heart,

with stain and splot

of ancient dough,

bringing to Now

the Long-ago.

Penmanship of

floured hand,

preserved on paper

less than grand,

thus creating

choice giftwrap

of what was once

a lowly scrap.



More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg,

and to Rose Schloot, owner of Cross River Lodge,

Grand Marais, Minnesota,

where this eloquent old piece of the past is displayed.




April 4.20: Coping

There’s magic in a daydream;

it conjures up a wish

and makes it seem achieved

though it’s only real-ish.

 I dream I’m leaning in

as far as I am able

amid the light and color

with my elbows on the table.

I add some blue-leg’d roosters

who don’t need social distance

and people without masks,

and I summon up resistance.



More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg

and to this bright cafe in pre-COVID Dusseldorf.

Family update, dear reader: my son is not worse and this is good!