Fragrance

sweet tart orange—
tinges of this taste
embed a fragrance

the old mock orange
vines over a fence
in gentle greeting

 

At old house in Lombard, IL

flowers made of air
petals dense in color

colors beyond palettes
sky bluer than ever

blue I can breathe
spring surging

beyond expectations
fulfilling hopes seeded

in coldest times

Morton Arboretum April 23

could this be spring
the blue too blue

tiny greens
alight with yellow

barely peeping from
high ink limbs

all fresh and full
of hope

Morton Arboretum April 23

Wild Geraniums

Chill of May
sweeps through soft seas

of wild geraniums
here in deep woods,

their lavender-pink heads
moving slightly

in waves of thick green,
a scene soon to disappear

as seasons move
to seasons,

reminder of endings
and beginnings.

This poem is my tribute to a family member, age 22, and all the others who fell victim to the pain-killer Oxycontin. They were productive citizens hoping to contribute to society and were fooled by a medical treatment.

Morton Arboretum, May 19, 2016

Tiny One

Beauty,
you have arrived,
in your fuzzy silver coat,
searching black beak,
and sooty eyes,
such a tiny bit
of eagle next to
your giant father,
hovering over the nest,
letting you see
your new world,
feeding you bits
of fresh fish,
beside two eggs
holding your sisters
a few more hours.

Bald Eagle father surveys his realm for the tiny brood.

They Soar for Us

Sign of good air and water,
the bald eagles soar once again,
their strong and regal stature
an inspiration for our own survival.

Here in December, the pair
are tending twigs in their nest,
and bringing in dry grasses
for the soft baby beds
needed later in March
when three smooth white eggs
will appear,

and both will protect them
even from wind and snows
of late winter.

Mom, with her “eye shadow” & less than snowy head.

Juvenile invades parents’ nest!

 

 

 

Pair altering the architecture of last year’s nest!