Our Mother

Always adamant
passionate she made her rules
in the kitchen & elsewhere
& from her lips important words
would rise while stirring a brainchild

. . . we'd listened too
to pots & pans & free-form thoughts
simmering & What Mom would do

So Much To Tell You

So much to tell you my love
hoping my uttered words
through an open window
become wings or autumn leaves
planing down to earth at your feet

World Series Haiku

Balloons to explode!
No easy way to describe
Yankees well alive!

Happy Halloween!

A World Series Poem

Eight . . . four . . . two
now a World Series venue

bat and ball ball and bat
pitchers arms curved awkward

that

their pitches skew batters
drive them crazy inside out

then

the lazy curve a sudden hit
between two players

now

the breath exhales
the game is on

For Dino Valenti (of Quicksilver Messenger Service)

All the songs have been sung
all prayers have been prayed

Your falsetto voice now dead

When you sang "I love you"
from the far end of a hollow

& through a tube to explosion

outward upward singing
I love you I love you!

A crescendo I still hear

Now the fall-out the stars
hang & glitter-dust remains

To remind to remind

A Baseball Poem #5

Baseball’s October Play

Variable Fall
Now white-striped for bat for glove
For fields one last time