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Archive for the ‘Climate change’ Category

Becoming

 

Never laugh at the elders

Who meet at MacDonald’s in Hawaii

Never laugh at their animated conversations

On trips to Vegas and the best ramen at Hotel California.

 

Never laugh

Because eventually you will become them

As I have these cold winter months

After working out at the gym in early morn.

 

I walk across the street to La Bou

Stop by three or four tables

To exchange greetings with the regulars.

Monday through Friday, one conversation

Is a recording…

She speaks Spanish, I speak English…

We say Buenas Dias, Gracias and more Buenas Dias.

And smile without translation.

 

Are you that youngster at a table

Laughing at my limited vocabulary

Swearing you  will never succumb

To life of the elders

Who drink the same bitter coffee,

Morning after morning

Staring at the world that never changes

Through last month’s spider webs

Except for a tree that reminds me

The seasons of my life are alive and well.

frances kakugawa 1/22.19

 

 

I

 

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ww on bull

How do you like my Holiday tree with so many golden balls…a natural and real tree. To all you readers who, after reading my Wordsworth! Stop the Bulldozer! book, began to use trees whose roots are still in rich healthy soil, thank you for keeping our planet green. To you, too, who have stopped cutting down trees. Wait, there’s more. See my bulldozer poem under my tree.

Ww's tree

The Bulldozer

there was place I sat and dreamed

to music played in my concert grove

 

branches rubbed against branches

coconuts dropped to the ground…

vines snaked and squeaked their way

seeking the hot noon sun.

 

frilly fronds danced the wind

lacy limbs brushed their leaves…

sparrows, mynahs spattered notes

low c’s, high c’s and in-between.

 

a place for cellos, violins

trombones, tubas, crashing  brass…

flutes, piccolos, clarinets ,too

a symphony of purest sound.

 

up and down the scale

notes played every key…

in this place I called my grove

until the monster came.

 

he gobbled up notes

oh, what a hungry beast…

he ate and ate, grunted and groaned

until there was nothing left

nothing at all.

from: Wordsworth! Stop the Bulldozer!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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