"The creative mind is the playful mind. Philosophy is the play and dance of ideas." --Eric Hoffer
Monet sunrise to
Turner sunset, my days are
painted memories.
Tomb walls have such leaves
Sumac's Egyptian pinnate fronds
Ramses symmetry
Low in greying west
red cymbal clanging over
city's evening hum
Great blue herons stalk,
stilt-legged stiffness poised to strike,
swift bayonet beaks
Grasses churning with
the channeled wind on steep creek
banks, sketching Van Goghs
Immediately
springs from the asphalt cracks green
botany's revenge
Shards of color flit,
flower drunk, unrolling black
straws tippling nectar
Serrated green
and silver hearts flashing signals
from cottonwood heights
Glen lit by linden
leaves glowing green above cool
shadowed tinkling pools
Bleached bones along the
trail tell me plainly future's
sweet economy
Turned to stone finding
mediocrity's tattoo
branding my old age
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