micropoem for the day: a typical day

When I wake up in the morning, I never know what to expect. No matter what I do, I can seem to be prepared. One day it’s this. The next day it’s that. Some days I shake my head in wonder. How did that happen? There was no telling at the beginning of the day. Somehow I end up with egg on my face some days. Other days the amazing thing happens. It’s almost enough to make one believe in miracles.

no clouds, no umbrella

micropoem for the day: summer

Summer’s upon us. Come June 21 it will be the Summer Solstice. It’s a magic time, this passing of the seasons from spring to summer. It’s a time when all sorts of creatures make their way into our back yards. And nature’s putting on a show for those of us who will look. Just go out on your back porch and sit a spell. Better yet. Find a meadow somewhere. Remember it wasn’t for naught that one of Shakespeare’s most magical of plays was “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. The Bard knew a good thing when it came to him.

night by firefly light
the cricket’s summery song
mosquito gatherings

micropoem for the day: daisy

This one came about one day when I was rushing out to my car. I was running a bit late for work. So, here I am go-go-go. Grab my lunch and head out the door. Hurry to the car. Popped open the trunk. Threw my lunch and my bag in. Shut the trunk. Unlock my door. Pull it open and go to sit in the front seat. Just as I did, I looked across the yard and there it was. A daisy. This little fellow all by its lonesome, waving at me in the breeze, letting me know that it was spring. I stopped what I was doing and walked over and was reminded of e e cummings’ line, “i thank heaven someone is crazy enough to give me a daisy.” Here was nature trying to give me a daisy. I was glad and stopped and spent the next five minutes looking at that there daisy. She was a pretty lady.

a daisy
five white petals and a yellow disc
on a patch of grass

micropoem for the day: moth

Don’t you just love it when you open up your closet door and out comes an insect. I often wonder what that fellow was doing in the closet. Discussing the weather. There is no weather in the closet. Even during a hurricane. ‘Course if it’s a tornado and the roof goes, there’ll definitely be weather. Maybe the guy is discussing politics with the shirts. Who’s going to win the race for the mayor of the dirty clothes hamper? Maybe the guy is talking about the infidelity of the pair of white socks. How the white left sock ran away with the right purple one. Or maybe he’s a stand up comedian. “Did you hear the one about the shirt that shrunk? She was all washed up.”

hanging out in the closet
with shirts and pants

micropoem of the day: parking lot

I work at a college. One of the things I enjoy about my place of employment is the parking lot. There you see cars with plates from almost all of the states. I haven’t seen plates from Alaska or Hawaii but I try not to get into too much of a hissie fit about that. It’s a big no-matter. Occasionally there’s one from Canada but not too often. When I see all those plates, it puts a smile on my face.  

cars in orderly rows
tag plates from many states
students in class