SOCIALLY UNBURDENED

On the road

I drive wherever
In a manner however
And faster than you

You 

Whomever

I can do it, so I will

Yonder, rapt in tech

I stream the limits  
Of my handhelds 

Beware my wander
No hands held

My music is loud

And rattles some moods
Should you prefer
It not intrude
Seek your local elevator 

Look at me

Look after me

SOCIALLY BURDENED

These two old totes of mine

Weight my arms

And slow me down

Annoying, I am sure  

One more old truck

Making wide turns

Sprinting I gave up long ago
Plodding will have to do

My accumulation continues to grow
And must be moved

I could lose half the heft

Make it easier

For whatever steps I have left

All this paper . . .

Update!

My youngers press

Use apps, digital maps and GPS

Deal with what’s what

And where it’s at

With much less fuss

Must you look over my shoulder?

DRK

10/28/18

BEST FRIENDS

My son and his wife have two dogs

Wonder Dogs!

Big, magnificent
Like to play, chase, and chew
They quickly wear out their toys
And, of course, you.

Our neighbor's pet
Little legs, a mile a minute
Goes for a jog every day

Yesterday, at walk's end
It squatted on the driveway
And made it clear
"Don't send me into the house."

So, once more 
Around the block
And then the back yard

Wander Dog! 

Our grandson, you may have heard
The musher
Helps manage a kennel
Dozens of racing dogs

Like an Alaskan dairy herd
Day in, day out, month after month
Feeding, cleaning
Breeding, training

And, ultimately, racing


He says the Arctic Circle and aurora are beautiful
Don't miss them when you come to Nome

Yonder Dogs!

Here, it's June
The cusp of summer 
Dog days soon

Are you friended?

DRK
6/20/19

ODE TO A PORCH

The time arrived
to address the neglect
we called a porch.
Its sage green walls
and black window trim,
potential Carole could see,
begged her touch
and TLC.

Now an invitation stands.
Spring, summer or fall,
Y’all come and share some time
‘tween our house and deck.
Experience the look

and its effects.

In this corner,
    small ,
a cabinet painted new,
    plum,
and a stand
with basil,
    zen.

To the left,
water bubbler
on a copper sheet
purring to light houses
and rosemary,
rooting,
    a dry sink
    seashore scene.

In that corner,
opposing,
a lantern with candle,
    large,
designed to counter 
Scandinavian nights
between
a Japanese anemone
and a money tree.

In the southwest corner,
    sun.
Hibiscus, coleus
and two rescue plants,
liberated from winter’s window sills,
keep their annual rendezvous
with summer’s solstice.

In the center,
a glass table ringed with chairs,
cushioned,
colorful,
    plum.

In the morning
spouses spar
with their cups,
    sipping
    caffeinated.


Evening
guests tilt
in their cups,
    slipping,
    inebriated.

DRK
6/6/15

WHITHER GRACE?  

WAITING

I am told there is a gift out there

They say, “grace”

Gift-like, free

Unique to me

Must I wait? 

Stop, look and listen

Dare I say, pray?

Or am I missing the point?

Can the extraordinary find me?

Sort through my baggage?

Learn the code

To hack its way past

My mental technology?

Gifts!

It would be nice to take a peek

Shake it a bit

Get a hint of what’s inside

It could be hard to open

Require assembly

Have difficult operating instructions

Something I would actually use?

I will try to be thankful

What if?

What if!?

A delivery has been tried

And I somehow scuttled it?

A challenge conveniently misinterpreted?

Or maybe it has been here all the time

Not carefully attended

Would it be something to grow with me?

Other people?

Truth be told

I have not exactly been seeking the extraordinary

Attending the elsewhere with some intensity

Where do my best efforts end?

And where does grace begin?

WONDERING

Would I know if it were working?

A tension may be necessary

Between the ordinary and the extra-

As in, no future

Without pruning the past

I have no horse to be knocked from

No angel has appeared

To structure my career

Should it prod dialogs with God

That would be new!

For many gifts what counts is the thought.

Might grace and I find a useful fit?

Discover what it means

To live gracefully?

Fantasizing

All my past missteps

And I’m still here

There but for the grace of God go I

Fantasizing again,

Maybe new eyes through which to see,

New energy

If it goes back to the resurrection

Or beyond

We’re all affected

But my guess, grace is personal

And hard to fathom in the general

SO . . .

What urged the many seekers preceding me?

What fueled their centuries of curiosity?

Their creativity?

Even these few words

Grace prodding questions about grace?

I may sort through my gifts again

And take a closer look

DRK

Feb. 18, 2019

REVELATIONS

The last book of the Christian Bible

“Revelation”

Is spelled with no “s”

But I offer nothing so singular here

Rather, a series of everyday revelations

Somewhat apocalyptic

And somewhat last-bookish

Age-old revelations about old age

 . . . Seemed new to me

Under Florida’s sun, circa February one

And, at some time, probably do to everyone

Apocalyptic?

A jab in the ribs, really

About creeping age

End-of-book-ish?

I do read the later chapters of my life

With more intent

But, experiencing age at Disneyworld?

That place for the young?

It and the airports leading to this “Rome”

Are huge

And now problematic  

Not for the young

Who traverse space easily

Striding daily, quick apace

Pain free

Fatigued?

Not obviously

Revelation one

We travel at different speeds

I, once a passer

Now the passee

Permanently

Revelation two

Physical pain is bad to prod the psyche

In my looking glass self * I now see differently

How people respond to me

The argument is over

Growing up has its downsides

And upsides

And this is why these events matter

The people who had been pulling me

Time and again

From my easy chair

Toward their future

Now took turns pushing me

My new “wheelchair legacy”

For the first time,

Viewing the world from the waist up

Revealed new interdependencies

Revelation three

Returns on investments getting real

Proud parents, look at what you’ve made

Blake’s new focus, pushing me

With his strong eight-year-old hockey legs

And thoughtfully parking me in the shade

DRK

2/9/19

PS:  to see where we went and what we did

Check out the amazing album of pictures

Created by Senja’s and Blake’s dad

*Charles Horton Cooley

Human Nature and the Social Order, 1902