Lion Stars

Somewhere,
a constellation
of lion stars roar
in pride light
across the night sky,
“We are family!”

Sky

The sky hears
the musical movement
of every v-shaped stanza
of migration

Baby Blanket

My colorful quilt

of many-toned skin,

is different from yours

and covers me

covers me well,

can you tell?

It keeps me warm

as the earth

when the sun shines down

in olive tones,

a Mediterranean-

Middle-East-kind-of-blanket

I got when I was born

What kind did you get?

Every Flower

Lavender roses last longest,

deep red have a scent of perfume,

the peach hold their colors the longest,

the white ones are largest in bloom

Yellow roses gather the sunlight,

multicolored ones mimic the dawn,

black roses glisten like midnight

with their leaves shining green as a lawn

To Nature, all people are flowers,

her palette of colors in skin,

the gift of this beauty is ours-

to love every flower as kin

Long Evening

In this time of the light,

end of day but before night,

when sun begins its evening sprawl,

our shadows barely show at all,

outlines grow ever duller

while blossoms, serene in brilliant color,

scent of violet, rose, and musk

perfume the air all cloaked in dusk

Under nature’s beauty spell,

we stroll about like all is well

though we wear masks and watch our spacing

knowing the risk that we are taking

may be low, but nonetheless,

a danger that we must address

as day comes to its nightly close,

a colorful palette in repose

We head home from our long walk

passing tree, leaf, blossom, stalk,

houses rimmed by bushy hedges

that may be rounded, or have edges,

other walkers keep their distance

in mutual respect for existence-

if only this had always been

for friends and strangers, lovers, kin

Appreciation for all that nature is,

not sacrificed to human biz,

oceans, mountains, valleys, lakes

clear air and water, for all our sakes,

creatures that swim, fly, crawl, and run,

everything beloved under the sun

from trees and plants, to bees that buzz

let’s keep it all as is, not was

What Grows

What do you grow in your garden there,

from seeds you tended with water and care?

Did they surprise you, when up they sprung,

delicious enough to delight the tongue?

Turnips and radishes, rounded in girth

rooted happily in the rich earth

Snap peas and melons, both with their vines

one travels up, while the other reclines

Potatoes snooze deep in the ground

spreading all over in a manner profound

All kinds of berries, of sweet tart flavors

to satisfy any dessert cravers

Cherries, apricots, plums, are all growing,

figs, Asian pears, their bloomers are showing

Lettuce in pots, and there’s Meyer lemon,

(a rhyme for that word leaves me hawing and hemmin’)

Broccoli, luckily, likes colder weather,

while others reject the chill altogether

Flowers, they flourish already this year,

perhaps knowing humans need color and cheer

All the euphorbia seems quite euphoric,

and the rhodies are practically phantasmagoric

Here in the garden, beyond human woes

snapdragons snap and dance on their toes

Whatever you’ve planted or whatever you’ve not,

the seeds of them both, well, that’s what you’ve got 

No Fear

The rain has left puddleprints

along the sidewalks 

and in the streets,

gurgling through the drains

like a song to the sky

No one is out walking 

but you and I,

delightfully sprinkled

but not sodden

in our sneakers and coats

The rain fears nothing,

not even the sunniest days

when it becomes only a dream

waiting for new clouds

to bring it forth again

The newbud scent

of mulch and flowers

dances through the air,

reminding us, it’s a fine thing

to breathe deeply 

No matter how much human fear

clings to houses and cars,

the rain shrugs wetly

and keeps making puddles

of sheer joy

Sunset Walk

Look, over there,

a pink orange surprise

above the dark outline

of trunk and branch hugging

the horizon

Sunsets, like every leaf ever made,

never look the same,

and the sky never gets bored in its

end-of-the-day palette

of Easter hues

Lately, colors have been heightened,

the crisp green of leaves, bold

contrast to the blushing rose

and white jasmine, whose fragrances

linger long after we pass by

The streets are poignantly empty,

even of car sounds,

and the ground shimmers

in the pale light, as if not quite

substantial any more

It is possible to breathe quietly

under such a sunset,

and let fear and worry dissolve

under the sky

like watercolors