Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Breakfast of Champions

Dear Breakfast,
This morning I ate you... you were an extraordinary bowl of grape nuts which I drowned under 2% milk and topped with rice chex. It was a really nice combination, and got along dashingly with the banana I had eaten in two bites thirty minutes earlier. As I recall the peal had come off remarkably easily, not like the little yellow raincoats of doom that eventually break somewhere on the side oozing bruised banana pudding... but not this morning.

Dedicated to my nephew Kole, because one can do anything they feel like.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Memories of Hyde Park

in the grass
i wonder
will i ever come to grips
with the tendencies of the butterfly
the color of wings as they flutter away
leaving gray left behind
summer turns autumn
and everywhere i turn
reminds of tiny legs on naked fingers
and warmth of yesterday

I keep returning to the place of departure
holding on to the dream
water stands in potholes
i walk through to clean the mud off the bottoms of my boots
this erie voice within asking
how many times will i do this before spring
old stones piled high stare down
weighing as much on me as the ground below
and a year has passed by in accordion time
the sun returns smelling fresh as wings
and i am there in the grass