tanka

Wolf Moon brought snow --at a distant farm standsits my sourdough breadMick Jones scream-sings in my head:"Should I stay or should I go?"

after a prolonged absenceMikey re-appearswithout his legs --he still smiles at everyonefrom his chair on the corner

evidence of Springon the blueberry bushesand the daffodils

Spring had taken over,when Winter suddenly shouted,"I'm not done yet!"

smoke from the chimney--barren bush in the west yardbends with the wind

single-pane windowcracked in the night -- winter claimsanother victimjust a day in northern Mainethe way life should be, they say

fix your ignorancewith careful introspection--Socrates was right:judge your examined life withethics, logic, morality

twelve vanilla beanseight ounces of vodkabottled in the basementin a year i'll have extractwelcome to my rural life

a motion sensorilluminates the tool shedfor twenty seconds--

shoveling snowcarving a pathfor UPS

LightLife® Smart Dogs®air-fried by Instant Pot® Omni®topped with Raye's® dijonand Cains® sweet pickle relishon a Hannaford® club roll

unseasonably warmthe snow is gone yet again--northern Maine laments:

lazing with my lovesoft wordless winter musiccoffee and wafflesclosest fam'ly hours awayno pressure of any kind

hands on the sinkstaring back at myselfthe clock says nine

the old man staresat the photo of a personhe cannot remember

leath'ry sea turtleunder cover of darknesslays eggs on the beach

Separated loversmeet by chance for the first timein fifty-two years.

spoon-size shredded wheatwith a layer of Barbara's Puffinsin a bowl with almond milk

far past their primein the fridge's produce bin:brussels sprouts and radishes

to dance without careis to embrace ineptitudewithout judgment: