Week 23 – Napkin #2

Springtime

Sneeze, sleeve

Drip, Kleenex

Run, run, run

Wipe, sniff

Mealtime, napkin

Nighttime, medication

Daytime, misery

Blow, blot, repeat

Allergies.

 

Week 23 – Napkin #1

Power Lunch

It was a tour de force –

First came lunch – nothing of the heavy sort, as we needed to focus on the long term.

And we hammered out our plan

Five of us identifying our needs, goals, and steps to get there.

Restaurant napkins filled and unfolded, as none of us considered to bring a notebook.

It added to the grassroots thought process that got us here to start with,

And the seed germinated with excitement.

We were reaching for the sky –

We were young, we had dreams, and we knew no limits.

Week 22 – Answer #2

The Ants

There was a crew at the zoo

Questioning where and who

The monkeys were acting funky

But the ants heard the answer

The lion was lyin’

The birds were turds

The bears were a bear

And really didn’t care

There were a hundred beasts at the feast

But only the ants heard the answer.

Week 22 – Answer #1

The Fact-Finding Mission

I stand,

A small, gritty piece of the puzzle,

Shouting at the top of my voice.

I ask the questions:

Who am I? Who are we? Why are we here?

I think I even shake a fist at the sky.

I shade my eyes from the sun, looking past the clouds and planets

I wait.

The day turns to night, and my shouting turns to a whisper.

I am on my knees praying.

I look wide-eyed into the blanket of darkness that shimmers with gem-like pinpoints of light.

I wait.

At day break, I grab my cup of coffee and blurt my questions again.

I rub my eyes and gaze into the pinkening horizon.

I tweak my ears into prime listening position.

And I wait.

I never wonder how long I will wait.

I never realize that life is passing me by as I wait.

I am steadfast while I wait.

One day, as I lay.

My gray and wrinkled body takes its last breath.

I smile at the face of God before me.

I have finished my race

And God says to me:

Here is your answer.

Week 21 – Plate #2

Back and Forth

Spinning round and round atop wicker canes

some wobble

and some just spin

and spin.

The carnie clown runs back and forth

Keeping the plates spinning

and spinning.

The onlookers watch his mad dash

to and fro

and laugh, chuckle, and gasp.

Some have their fingers in their mouths,

some hide their mouths with their hands

some cannot look away.

The spinning plates – so damn many spinning plates

Our crazy spinning plates

As we run to

and fro.

Week 21 – Plate #1

Strike

At 60 feet, 6 inches, the plate looked a long distance from pitcher’s mound.

The batter looked tiny, and the strike zone was even smaller.

But I was used to putting string through the needle’s eye.

I got this.

Wait, did the batter just smile at me?

Stop it, hold on. Get your head straight.

I counted my breaths, just like in training

I leaned back and raised my arms, just like in training

and after I threw the ball, I followed through, just like in training.

And just like in training, the umpire raised his arm and pointed, as he punctuated the air with his voice – “Hee-rike!”

And there is was. I was back and better than ever.

Nothing was going to stop me!

I counted my breaths, just like in training.

Ready to throw my second pitch of the new season.

Week 20 – Restaurant #2

Mexican Food

Hankering for some Mexican food,

we made our way to Little Mexico on the outskirts of town.

The bars and restaurants were lively for Cinco de Mayo,

and I had my fair share of tequila and cervezas.

But it was time to eat, and eat we did!

Pork tortas with avocado,

Queso dip,

Salsa.

Mmmmm.

They rolled us out the door, keeping us away from sharp objects

(lest we explode!)

And on our way back home, we had one more shot –

to calm our bellies.

Week 20 – Restaurant #1

Thursday Night

It was tradition –

A night of hard drinking, dancing, verbal jousts

Looking to get lucky, though it never really happened.

Our group of eight – perfectly matched – four men, four women

Friends for years, relationships intermingled.

We were a regular St. Elmo’s Fire – sorta.

At the Greek restaurant, at three A.M.,

We’d laugh and share stories.

Our voices loud with alcohol.

Trudy, our always waitress, getting our orders just right.

We had our bad times, we had our good times, but the camaraderie at 3 in the morning was perfect for building life-long memories.

And when we left,

We left with full bellies and hearts,

Rarely waking in our own beds.

Week 19 – Carnival #2

Pop Top

The desert was scorched, Joshua trees popped from the dirt like pimples.

The catastrophe was witnessed as far as San Bernardino.

There was no joy, there was no happiness, there were no songs of angelic hosannahs.

The carnival of destruction upheld its end of the deal.

Though no one had died – yet – there was a rush at stores for milk sandwiches.

Coyotes howled in laughter.

Wolves moaned with delight.

Dinner will soon be served.