Daily Prompts

Weather: Too Cold For Forgiveness

We start with the weather on the call.
But I don’t care about weather at all.
Because the wind will blow and the sun will set,
And when it does, I still won’t forget
How you let me take the fall.

Forgiveness is a barrier, forty feet high.
You’re told to scale it, so I try.
Check the emotions and the pride,
But it won’t get you to the other side.
No foot holds here. No cracks to pry.

Time is just a narrow band
Of uneven footing, and shifting sand.
The truth we seek is solid ground.
But what I hear is just the sound
Of wind lashing a tiny strand.



The drive is to find the birth river.
With an important package to deliver.
Molecules of home and preparation for availing
Of rushing waters that are much less saline.

Fighting currents, ocean monsters and net,
Other obstacles face them yet:
The impoundment, the angler, the hungry bear.
Thousands of miles, yet they arrive there.

To a familiar, straight-run, gravel bed.
This is where instinct has led.
Roe and milt and lives are spent.
Salmon, do you die content?

Michigan Shiner

When the summer’s heat can’t get worse,
I’ll be at the beach, fully immersed.
Swimming free between lake’s surface and bottom.
Troubles? What troubles? I don’t got em’.

But during the winter’s long-winded curse,
You’ll find me with a book, fully immersed.
A curious mind, with much to learn.
Biding my time, til’ spring takes its turn.

Gentle Gradation

Truly full of sound and fury.
Little rest and always hurry.
I Pause. Some hesitation.
Take in a gentle gradation,
Nature’s nuance.

Soft vibrations on the air,
Have a different meaning here.
Take a break from combat mode,
Let something older take hold.
Nature’s nuance.

Chickadee flits through the air,
Thankfully, not selfaware.
Admiring the armored symmetry
Of an old oak tree.
Sweet nuance.

My worries are an early morning mist.
The sun gets higher, they don’t exist.
This is a moment without thought or time
In this moment I free my mind,
And notice the nuance.

The Lies That You Make Up

Oh, when we were babies,
Well it was desperate times.
They would cleave
But we clung to the line.

And we’d battle for nearly any crumb.
They’d call us naive, call us dumb.
Still, we fought and wouldn’t succumb
When we were young.

Are they white-washed memories
Of a forgetful mind?
Or were those really
Better times?

8 Lines of Selfhelp

If you’ve been bruised and battered,
Left in a pile, self-esteem shattered,
Pick up the pieces and realize,
There’s only one fit to criticize.

Go to a mirror and give her a look.
Smile, wink, let her off the hook.
You only have one life to live.
You are the best person you can forgive.

Young Doggerel

When I was young,
Children were seen and not heard.
Parents had the only word.
Today’s norms were obscene and absurd.
When I was young.

When I was young,
It snowed all through November.
Winters were something to behold and remember.
I don’t think we thawed out til’ September.
When I was young.

When I was young,
The President didn’t grab at lady parts,
Or make whining and lying and crying an art,
He had America’s best interest at heart
When I was young.

When I was young,
I wanted to go to the moon,
But the Challenger crew was gone too soon.
My crying teacher burst into the room,
When I was young.

When I was young,
The horizon was forever bright.
I’d grow some wings and then take flight,
Never more to alight.
When I was young.