Birds

Birds think they are above us, which they are at times.  They look down at funny stick figures laden with gravity and unable to rise up, to free themselves from weighted chains, forced within sloth-like motions to exist in only two dimensions.  Birds know only unfettered freedom, superior, laughing with conceit and pride at their ability to stay out of reach but for those rumored tubes of fire spoken about in nests.  If you can see shiny slivers of light, stay away, fly high and fast and anywhere, just away, as far as the wind can carry your wings, to live, to tell, to find power and safety among the flock.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2013 

Two Dogs

The dogs sometime sleep together when it's cold, leaving empty the cushion closest to the glass door, icy there, lonely, separate.  Together, they huddle for collective warmth, or to face off to see if the original squatter will give up his post.  Perhaps it's fondness that brings them together, dog love, if dogs can love, pleasure in company, life companions. What does it say about the one second to the bed?

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo: Poem Fix

Wanderlust

The Russian winter white dwarf hamster is unaware he's going nowhere.  He climbs aboard the wheel, leans into it, excited about travel and surprise, new vistas, exotic foods.  He's hoping for a shapely mate at the other end of the endless moving sidewalk, a nice smelling female amenable to snuggling and more.  This makes him run faster, hope in the distance, love waiting, tiny claws digging in.  But he is disappointed.  Again.  The new realm is strikingly parallel to the old one.  And the one before that.  Furniture is arranged similar.  The same food is served, water spigot, too.  The big hand looks nearly identical.  Is this how the world is ordered?  Modular, structured, equivalent?  He retreats to the new nest, same as the old nest, to consider things and plan tomorrow's journey, running farther to find a place he's sure is out there.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo: Mylius

Animal Mortality

If we are the only animal that knows
Its own mortality
Then what to make of the mother gorilla
Who cradles her dead baby
Elephants that nudge the bones of dead relatives
Giraffes that won't abandon a corpse
Grief or curiosity
Puzzlement or reflection
If they know death
Is it the same as ours
Do they understand aging or illness
Consider the possible outcomes
Fragility of time
Do they prepare, fret, deny
Embrace darkness when it appears friendly
Are they ready as some humans
Or lash out against nature
Rude and intemperate

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo: Nevit Dilmen

How to Kill a Mouse

I captured a mouse in my pantry
Cornered on a shelf
Excited, nervous
I brought a plastic kitchen trashcan to the edge
Goaded him (her?) to the ledge with threat of a
Large can of Libby's 100% Pure Pumpkin on the right
And a box of granulated sugar on the left
Nowhere to go
Clearly frightened
The mouse fell into the trashcan
Looking small and defeated
Cowering at the bottom
My brother once told me that one mouse
Turns into a hundred more
That drowning them is
Fast, efficient, humane
So I took the trashcan outside
Its passenger quiet and curled
Filled it halfway with water from a hose
The mouse struggled mightily
After a while it gave up
Dropped from the surface
Eyes bulging like a cartoon
Bubble rising from its mouth
Horrible
I spilled the trashcan on the driveway too late
Nudged the lifeless rodent with my shoe
Its soul had fled
I scooped him up with a piece of cardboard
Threw him in the bushes
With what was left of my innocence

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012

Mammals

Boo-Boo is a bear and a
Small cut or bruise
Easily covered with a Band-Aid.
It's a strange name for a
Cute animal that spends his time
Warning his goofy friend who's always on the
Verge of great mischief.
Yogi is a bear, too,
As are wise meditators from South Asia,
Who seem about as far as possible
From a troublemaking park dweller,
Or a baseball great with clever quips
Who loans his name to the cartoon creature.
The elder bear acts more human than a
Dangerous carnivore.
He mimic's Art Carney's Ed Norton,
Who works the sewers but specializes in
Irritating Ralph,
But the cathode ray tube humans regress to mammals
When they don fuzzy tail hats
To honor their Raccoon Lodge.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Image: US National Archives and Records Administration

Pepper Tree

To keep the large pepper tree from falling
I thinned its east-facing side
Where over time it leaned into the morning sun
And took on a permanent unhealthy angle,
Dangerous,
Jeopardizing my house.
My rusty jaw-toothed saw
Sliced through easy lower twigs
Exposing thick weighty branches,
My target.
When I needed more height I fetched a ladder,
Balancing tenuously,
Hacking at strong wood
Feasting on gravity.
Healthy green limbs fell
So the tree could survive.
I started through the last heavy arm,
Saw almost too late that it supported a nest
With three small powder blue eggs.
I stopped, leaving a deep wound in the tree
That would fester and claim the branch.
For now, the nest stayed intact,
But for how long?
I heard a desperate wind last night,
Which kept me up,
Anxious.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo: Poem Fix

When Good Old Dog Got Sick

I did not acknowledge when
Good old dog got sick.
He's just old, I told myself,
Like me.
It happens
You slow down.
But sometimes he wouldn't get up
Too painful.
I didn't want to accept that kind of truth
But hurt is hurt
So we saw the vet
Who gave a sad compassionate look and said
When it's time it's time
You'll know.
I took good old dog home and
Loved him,
Forced him to still go on walks with me
For my sake.
Our lives went on until
One day he became agitated and wouldn't move,
No food or drink.
My discomfort mattered more than his,
Beyond what was reasonable.
I kept him going,
Urged him to
Snap out of it,
But when it was time
I did know.
I took him to the vet and
Handed him over,
Guilty for taking it this far,
Selfish.
I gave him a final brave hug and
Kissed his head.
They removed his collar and presented it to me,
Morbid memento.
He was led down a long hallway where,
Before disappearing,
He turned and looked at me
One last time.
I couldn't read his tired gaze
But it fucked my soul
And I swallowed hard,
Ashamed,
And wondered if this is how it will be
When my time comes.

 © Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo: Elf

The Javelinas Came Last Night

The javelinas came last night
As they often do at dusk
When the wind pushes the chimes,
Calling to them.
The dogs sense them first,
Spotting movement and large shadows
Moving through the brush.
Barking doesn't startle the musk hogs
Though they pause to consider the attention.
They scurry quickly, following each other,
Staying close to the pack.
I call my wife who joins me on the deck.
We take turns finding them.
Is that a tree or . . .
As it grows darker we notice a small figure,
A baby that appears lost,
Trailing the rest.
My wife comes closer, touching, worried.
Over there, she says,
As if the animal can understand her urging.
Where's the mother?
The wind changes direction and it's
Too dark to see them.
Still, we stand against the rail,
Against the night,
Comforting each other.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012

Photo by Alan Vernon

The Job

Jurgen from Sandesneben, Germany

Who has better work than the rooster?
He has two primary tasks
To have intimate relations with his willing harem
As often as possible
And to wake the farmer
He need not be talented at either
No judgment of technique or prowess
Fast and efficient is preferred
If he doesn't cock-a-doodle-do on time
No one complains
Is that why he crows?
Rejoicing at his job
Strutting to fertilize at will
Never mind coping with other roosters
That can be managed
Young master of the barn
Without fear of wrung neck
Or becoming the farmer's dinner

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012

Snowy Owl

Photo: Fotografiert von Marcel Burkhard

Bird watching isn't
About spotting birds
It's finding a father
Who may tread dusty trails with me
Searching for the elusive snowy owl
That remains uncatalogued
We would walk quietly
Shoulder to shoulder
Whispering
Words barely needed anyway
His consent to find the owl
Was all the love I needed
His binoculars lifted to his eyes
Pointing
Over there, he said, barely audible
Next to the thing
Him next to me
His cologne
His smile that opened my soul
And while he bird watched
I father watched
I will give up the snowy owl dream
Its black beak and yellow eyes
Its mythical krek-krek call
Its deep recurring song, gawh
All of it, willfully abandoned
But for a sighting of the man

© Poem Fix http;//www.poemfix.com 2012