Sunday, January 26, 2014

The giraffe

Sometimes I smile, and have to laugh,
When contemplating the giraffe.
A giant, peaceful herbivore,
Polite, he's disinclined to roar,
(Though he might give out a bellow
If he meets a nasty fellow).

He likes Acacia leaves to munch,
And cranes his neck to reach a bunch.
(Higher leaves are best, the upper,
Which he chomps on for his supper;
His gourmet taste for leaves is fine,
But he forgoes the glass of wine.)

No animal is quite as tall,
In height, he stands above them all.
The mild giraffe is in first place,
With stilts required, to see his face.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

After last night's storm

I walked beside the restless sea
And thought of what we want to be,
Our foolishness, and how we try
To dominate both earth and sky.

The littered beach's tattered form
Displayed the wrack of last night's storm,
Crushed clam shells, ragged scraps of trash,
Bore witness to the storm king's lash.

A Christmas tree rose on the sand,
As if awaiting some bright plan,
Set there to make clear testament
To man's absurd capricious bent.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Do you see us?

Do you see us old people on the street?
A lot of us use canes, and can't walk fast;
We're old, but we had lives like you, complete
With kids, homes, jobs; that part of life's our past.
Do you see us, or do you look away,
Embarrassed we might stop, and talk, and fuss,
And tell you time will catch you too, one day?
(We have so much in common, you and us.)
Your anxiety doesn't make us gloat;
We're walking the same road, just further on.
Sometimes its smooth, sometimes bumpy, but note
How similar, the things we're musing on.
Can you see? If our presence blocks the view,
Be tolerant; we're just the same as you.