dogtrax

Today, I am still, completely chill, not yelled up or compelled to fill my head up with the noise of the world, just sitting in the silence, as quiet as the nub on a poet's quill

for MastoPrompt

Again Again Again Re (an invitation to return) Mark (to etch your words here) Able (you can leave your mark) Again Again Again

for MastoPrompt

Oh, my people, you're just plain crazy - You're calling me lazy

but I'm just waiting for a chance to run, waiting for a moment to have some fun

My eyes aren't shut - they're only at rest – and my ears, fully alert

So, squeak that ball - call me to the door, but until that time, call me inert

for Open Write

Let's have a celebration, of you -

with music and dancing,

and laughter and stories,

we'll toast you the whole night through

And tomorrow, what we'll do, is turn attention on me

but for tonight, the love is on you

for MastoPrompt

Each spring, we keep watch from our living room window,

waiting for the cardinals

A flash of red along the fence still painted with snow

Flittering among the forsythia

a fluttering palette of ink and flight, the pairs of them in flow

couples dancing in air

spreading the news of joyful change for which we're already in the know

Winter's fading, slow

for OpenWrite

Words, enclosed inside punctuation ... a poem

for MastoPrompt

She is a funny creature and earnest, and she is doing what she can to survive — Ada Limon, from Give Me This

We all worry about the fisher living in the drain, its nightly patrols and all the missing cats, something wild taking root in our neighborhood

The dog and I caught a glimpse early one evening, the fisher slinking near the edge of the street, too early to eat

but it carried itself confident, as if it owned the place, as if we were intruders in its chosen domain,

The dog had hackles, but I had curious wonder, as it looked at us as if calculating a meal before stealing away, gone into the fading day

for Open Write

The racket from the stage was earsplitting

— a DJ pumping out the jams on a mix board of colored spheres —

We were all dancing; You remained sitting

for MastoPrompt

Please, she whispered, please, can't we turn up the home heat; Winter's not for me

for Algot

I often fall silent as a leaf when talk turns to Family Trees

My branches seem so barren, while others keep staring at detailed maps of places and names

Mine remains the same; Empty as always

As if someone intentionally misplaced all the lore and stories from which we came

for OpenWrite