Hipsters

So many
        so lonely

perched in public
    earbuds in

dressed to the tens

      paperback
  in the right hand
cigarette 

    in the other
silently
     begging

        to be noticed

but not realized

     by another person

just as perfectly
     flawed

and brilliantly
     refined.

Under Clouds, Over Breakfast

Its raining hard
on me today.
But luckily not
on my parade.
My eyes lose focus
on parking lot puddles
in a constant
chilled simmer.
I wonder how bright
it might be on top
of the dripping
gray fleece
overhead.

Hear them Roar

Licking up the April showers
They spring forth from the ground
And roar across the hillsides
Without the slightest sound.
Soaking up the sunshine
Sitting upright in the grass
Tossing the thickest yellow manes
As bumble bees fly past.
It's a beautiful life, but one short-lived,
For in just seven days
Their heads will shrink and then extrude
Quite stately bobs of gray.
Relaxing at the east wind's call,
Tossing into the air their scions,
They still stand tall, thin and bald
Ah, the lives of dandelions!

Rural NY

Sunshine and clouds
Cold wind and flakes
Icicles, wind gusts
And powdered glass lakes.

Far from the hustle
Of the vertical city
There are parts of New York
That are wonderfully pretty!

The Ozarks

Perched upon the mountainside
in a cabin with a view
of Beaver Lake below us,
and naught we have to do
but listen to the wild birds sing
and watch God paint the sky
repealing inhibitions
to let imagination fly.