In search of story


July 7.21: Coping

Street art has found a place

in cultural domain;

the spider looks upon it

with the master’s cold disdain.

His webby muse inspires

despite the hours of tedium

to pattern and to form

with gossamer as medium.

In gallery of flowerpots

the moon and sun elide,

performatively joined

on thinnest thready slide.

By night the moon plucks lightly

each string in placid rondo;

by day a somersaulting sun

cavorts in bright glissando.

Known only to the artist

where spinnings stir and start,

sufficient to the self

is ephemera of the art.

So the noiseless patient spider,

in retreat of sweet alyssum,

abjures the common cult

of crass commercialism.


With apologies and thanks to Walt Whitman’s

“A Noiseless Patient Spider.”




Disconnections: July 17.18

In elephantine pirouette

I dance around my deck

bending, leaning, stretching

twisting leg and neck

camera poised and ready

in effort all agley’d

to capture in mid-flight

a wispy floating seed.

It can’t be seen by others

observers might be flummoxed

wondering what I’m chasing

delusional and lummoxed.

I cannot get a focus

on ary single one

the geranium sighs and whispers

I’ll show you how it’s done:

you stay quite still and quiet

don’t let on you care

and it will come to you

like silvery tickly air.




Connections: January 15

SANYO DIGITAL CAMERAPeople, meaning well,

say I should have a pet.

Little do they know

I have the best one yet.

Meet my pet geranium:

content in sunny latitude

it contemplates the weather

in vaguely feline attitude.

It may not twitch a tail

nuzzle, wag, or purr,

but I don’t have to walk it

or vacuum up its fur.

My friends are quite like-minded

and, taller than they by half,

 is their twining placid rosy

pet bougainvillea giraffe.

With thanks again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.