my cathedral

My cathedral, green,
buttresses a deep blue southern sky;
my cardinal, red,
sings hymns that raise a host
of finches, gold.

A Tale of Two Cities or The Happy Wanderer

I love to go a wandering...

I'll be back at the end of June, God willin' and the Thames don't rise....

Wait a minute! The Seine Also Rises, doesn't it?

Val-deri, Val-dera,

Val-deri,
Val-dera-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Swinging Summer Street

Spinning, spinning,

the pavement tilts and settles,

tilts again; music drums a beat, colors

whirling faster and faster to the thrum

thrum in our ears, our veins, our feet

on the hot Kentucky street.

Strings of summer rise with heat

as we turn, turn, heads back,

eyes sliding sideways, hair whipping cheeks,

mouths stretching wider and wider

until only the sound and the color

and the beat of the music course

in our ears, our veins, our feet

on this swinging summer street.

Shadow Blossom Memories

Beside the gate,

a girl, caught in sun

that halos round her head

like dandelion blooms,

squints up her eyes.

Beneath the dress

that tulips when she stoops,

small toes plow paths

of prints in

fertile earth.

Beyond our view,

in silent still salute,

the master’s hand drops

shadow blossom memories

at our feet.