Observation - July 5th, 2020, Saturday

it is late in the afternoon

all the shades are drawn down in the condo

 

the unwelcome sun is beating

hard on the bricks of the brownstone

 

the air conditioner fills the empty space

with ambient noise and cool air

 

kitty is curled up and sleeping

 

 

Observation - June 5th, 2020, Friday

the city is green

summer is come

 

here it is quiet—right now it is 4:00 pm

I recall the sounds of gunfire that
woke me in at the witching hour

now, a quiet lays over Minneapolis

like a restive green veil

an expectation for justice is simmering

a week ago, the demand was a roiling-boil

the city caught fire

soot and ashes linger—still
the chemical scent

the residue of rage
scratching at my throat

 

 

Observation - May 5th, 2020, Tuesday

the morning is bright

a plane is descending

the city is quiet,

except for Robin, chirping

in the maple

past my window

 

my lady is weaving at her loom

my Kitty is begging for butter

 

by the end of the day, seventy-thousand Americans

will have died from complications due to COVID-19

 

the news is increasingly grim, politicians

telling us to be prepare for greater losses

telling us that Americans must sacrifice

like we did in the second World War

 

this time we march into the maw of a beast

en masse through the plague of COVID-19

feeding the economy like a cannibal-god

 

seventy thousand by the end of the day

the discarded dead are frozen husks

racked and packed in refrigerated trucks

 

 

Observation - April 5th, 2020, Sunday

peppers, garlic and onions, bubbling in butter

their aroma fills the apartment with the rising sun

 

a string of pink fire lights the horizon sky

a flash before becoming soft and bluish—white

 

the street is quiet...so quiet

I can hear the gears turning

in the empty bus rolling by

we are on quarantine-time

 

the birds have noticed

fox and coyote too

fewer humans to contend with

     fewer cars and people walking

fewer things to fear

 

I imagine them praying

as the sun climbs into the sky    

everybody please stay home

 

Observation - March 5th, 2020, Thursday

it is 5:27, ante-meridiem

Kitty is yowling for attention

she is unhappy with the food in her dish
she wants something different
she wants something fresh

she doesn’t want the supplement I give her
to strengthen her joints and back legs
she is seventeen and becoming arthritic

she wants to play
but she cannot jump…anymore
she does not like to play string
while lying on the floor

I lift her to the window
so she can watch the street

 

 

Observation - February 5th, 2020, Wednesday

it is chilly outside, but not cold for February

 

the sun is shining through a cloud filled sky

pale patches of blue speak of an early spring

Kitty is sleeping by the window as I write

 

I am listening to the news, on this sad day

Donald Trump has been acquitted of his crimes

America has become a lawless place, maybe

 

our country has always been a place of,

deep divisions where laws are applied differently

on behalf of the rich and against the poor

            maybe nothing has changed at all

 

America is naked now, reveling

shamelessly wallowing in all our flaws

 

 

Observation - January 5th, 2020, Sunday

the sky is bright

blueish-gray

matted clouds

thin as wisps of frost

 

there are a few leaves

and other dried things

     still clinging to the trees

they flutter in the breeze

 

dark limbs stretch past

panes of old-glass

     rippled like a waterfall

cascading in slow motion

 

the near still of time

 

soft waves of light bending

through my window on the world