NURTURING NATURE’S DANCERS

From the backyard arise
our first fireflies.

Months of magic released, spring’s
annual pool, genes,
from last year’s wintered over
beetle larval leavings.

Now lightning bugs poise
to open summer’s show.

Mates to be sought,
eggs to be wrought.
Their air, warmed and conditioned, just so.


On the day before summer
they danced at dusk.

Now through July,
    seeing it a must,
their daily rise
to a silent frantic
ground finale.


Luminescent genes
egg on the dance
that continues the pool.

DRK
9/13/11

 

THE TROUBLE WITH GETTING OLD

 

Is that not everyone does

Someone is left

With what remains

 

In the brain

 

Unpreventable intrusions

Infusions?

 

Phantoms

Rummaging

Jostling for brain space

 

Is there still room in there?

 

Do these visitors occupy

Empty areas?

 

Or do they create

Maybe dignify

New spaces

That might have

Mouldered away?

 

That is the hope

Welcome, spooks

 

DRK

4/5/2025

 

SOCIAL DISTANCING

 

Thinning air up here

Hair, too

 

Is that you over there?

No need to ask

In a younger year

 

Rare birds, we

Can barely see the herd down there

 

Check out that ladder

Sturdy

Been given some care

“Hey, stranger

May I ask?

Anchored where?”

 

Hope to see you soon

Climb a few more of those annual rungs

 

DRK

4/23/21

 

 

 

SUMMER SOLSTICE FROM THE PORCH

The late afternoon sun sends its rays

Angled high

Down through the leaves

Swirling shadows

That encircle me

A summer sanctuary

 

Serves me

And a passel of birds

I am glad to host

Last minute feeding

Then an announcement 

Of that perfect roost

The angle of the sun lowers

addressing trees higher on the hill

Then climbs those trees

And lifts the day away

A Michigan alpenglow

Dusk, cooling, the wind now gone

The aroma of once freshly cut grass

Now works its way up from the ground

As a more pungent drying hay

Encore

Solar lamps

Pop on before ten

For a moment of cheer

Then gradually dim

Bird chatter, gone

Darkness slips in

Tomorrow’s show begins

With cocktails around four

After Carole, with her hose

Has had a chance to visit

Each new seed and flower

DRK

6/19/20

 

THE MANY FACES OF

Spring training

A Q-Tip bucket thing*

Paradise

Where everybody wants to be

Or at least see

Spring break 

Backed up traffic-miles

Glad to park

In St. Pete for a week

THE GAMES

Mets versus Tigers

Vernal equinox at easy-to-access

Lakeland’s Joker Marchant Stadium

New renovations fresh

Big names rest

But we’re up close and in the shade

Tigers win, the best

Busing back

Waylaid

By an angry serpent-

-ine belt

Moderate snafu

Responded to

By a 7-11 with restrooms

And parking shade

Clockwork Orange?

Dystopia?

Canterbury Tales a better fit

We rallied and shared stories with our travelers

Game two

Travel to

Tampa’s Steinbrenner Stadium

Red Sox beat the Yankees

A first for me

No recognizable Yankees’ names

Highlight

Grounds crew acting out “YMCA”

Dragging the infield, mid game

Game three, Port Charlotte

Yankees visit the Rays

Game tied, end of the ninth

End of game

Spring rules

What’s up, NYC?

Many Mets and Yankee fans in our group

Disappointed

Special find 

An official spring training baseball   

Hiding near the entrance grass

Check your Easter basket, Blake

THE COACH

Recruiting baseball hopefuls

Bill Matthews must convince moms

Their sons will get a good education

At Eckerd College

And . . . the sons . . . to pursue one

The chances of making it to the majors

Slim or none

Equipment

Evolves

Wooden bats, those used by the pros

Now hollowed, lacquered and scientifically designed

But may not last more than one swing

Ceramic ones for the amateurs

Expensive but guaranteed for a year

A lively batting experience

Too dangerously so for the pros

Rules and equipment both evolve

Making sliding into defender with spikes

Pretty much a thing of the past

Ethics and Baseball

Signs get stolen

Batters get thrown at

As do umpires

Intentionally?

Rarely

But no case can be made for it

Recruiting, stealing players, poaching

Always a concern for the ethics of baseball

All get modeled for kids

Batting order strategy

Speed first, hitting power second

Then a place

For those whose job it is to defend

Was that a hit or an error?

Wild pitch?  Passed ball?

In seconds, Bill Matthews must define umpires’ calls

And be immune to the controversy

That comes with being the Rays’ official scorer

THE LAWYER

Michael Allen, baseball fan

And law school dean:

Baseball and the law learn from each other

Each contain basic elements and required sequences

First, second, third and home

Bases

Passed in that order

To score a run

Legal tort law

Duty, breach, causation, harm

No legal harm without each

Judges and umpires  

Are needed to make decisions 

When the application of rules is ambiguous

And “the game” must be advanced

In a number of arbitration and anti-trust cases

They have made decisions

That actually altered “the game”

Umpires are a part of the game

Not the ones people come to see

But are needed and committed to advance the game

Judges, too

Become involved in people’s lives

And are equally as passionate about their work

THE UMPIRE

Retired ump, Rich Garcia

Does not like the visual technology

Used to define strike zones

That home plate square you see on TV

Is two-dimensional

And cannot show the path of the ball over the plate

Nor are radar guns accurate

Operated by non professionals

They are easily compromised by interference

And do nothing to help the batters

Getting to know coaches and players

Helps umpires anticipate and understand their behavior

In the past

Fraternizing with the other team

A taboo

Today most players know each other

And make so much money

It’s what friends do

OWNERSHIP

Dick Crippen

PR man for the Tampa Bay Rays

And former sportscaster

Gave us a tour of Tropicana Field

We saw the new infield being installed

Then went behind the scenes

To see

Press boxes

Scorers’ tables

Workout rooms

Executive clubs   

Even the loading dock

With its stored crates for opening day

Viewing baseball’s history on display

At the Ted Williams museum

Ended our tour

The message

Stadiums are like cities

And must produce more than baseball games

Diverse needs must be met

To accommodate a variety of fans during the games

And an external presence must be made

In the community

Through charitable, education and welfare programs

FROM THE MINOR LEAGUES

Imagine the challenges

Operating multiple teams in different cities

And Caribbean Academies

To meet the developmental needs

Of professionals at different levels of ability

While maintaining a consistent training program

Throughout

Moving players across country

Their equipment and families

Often on a moment’s notice

Advising players on

Equipment contracts

Nutrition and sleep needs

ESL and culture classes

Life skills planning, laundry and budgeting

All a part of baseball

HEADING BACK

Paradise

Put on hold

Linda at home in Georgia

Naylor near Valdosta

Making pre-op preps

For back surgery next week

Chance to get reacquainted with nephew Philip

His wife Nichole and their two charming daughters

Braylin and Ryleigh

Billy and Jo at the farm in Lax

With Howell and Tish

Fellowship and a Polaris tour --  

Renovated ponds and buildings

Sent home with a baked chicken recipe

HEADING NORTH

Enjoyed the redbud

Traveling through

Tennessee and Kentucky

Target -- Hilltop Farm

Bedford, Kentucky

Try to find it without GPS

Somewhere along Ralston Road

Betsy, Charlie and son, Jeff

Share eighty acres of woods

A clearing containing two homes

Auxiliary buildings

And numerous gardens

Spectacular long distance view

Overlooking the Ohio River

A multi decade review

Of careers and retirement years

Long overdue

Silversides Plus One

Charlie’s guitar and voice

Resurrected in retirement

Now performing duets with a friend

At nursing homes

When he is not writing

For the local newspaper

Engaging his Rotarians

Or parading kids in his

Thirteen-barrel kiddy train

Betsy, an only daughter

Immersed in sorting several lives

Of acquired family heirlooms

FINAL PUSH

Back roads through southeast Indiana to Fort Wayne

Avoiding rainstorms

To return home a day early

DRK

Road Scholar Trip
3/15/17 – 3/28/17

* Some Floridians refer to senior citizens as “q tips”              

 SOUTHERN EVENING 

Come, breathe deeply
Of spring's aromas
On our walk through Georgia's soft, warm, heavy 
Evening air

The pines, of course, pervade

But here and there
The waxy lemon of magnolia
And the sweet rush of wisteria 
Brush our attention
As we pass the darkening lawns 
Of pink and white dogwood
Solar lamp lighted

And pine straw mulched


DRK
5/2/17

 

 

                                       TRAVELS TO THE SUN

 

A Midwestern ode to those Metros who slog

south . . . to find sun

wasting distemper shots on their dogs;

and

to those special few whose homespun grace

helped us learn

that Spring is more than a sunny place.

 

Expectations were high!

         It was March . . . and Spring was due

                  . . . on the calendar.

         de jure,

         If NOT de facto

 

We decided to act . . . to

         . . . Tampa with the temps,

         hit the trail, and travel back to

                  a Florida place . . . called Saddle Ranch.

 

We traveled south,

         left the FRIENDLY Midwest,

                  drove through southern HOSPITALITY . . .

         . . . and seemed to overshoot our mark.

 

For, while the weather said, “Tropical,”

         we met some kiesters,

         chill-winded Nor’easters,

                  who blew in with a cloud

                  covered Spring with a pall,

                           and fostered ill-will . . .

                           . . . and loud noises.

               

For suddenly sun had sounds:

         Horn blasts . . .

Making beach life feel like home,

         home on the RANGE,

                  home on the FIRING range . . .

                           of a city intersection.

 

Want to get picked off in the cross-fire

                  of honking horns and honked off drivers?

Ease away from a stop light.

 

It got worse.

 

Horns, not deadly or personal, enough

         Were focused . . . by loud

 

people . . . creating a din

         spewed from urban

                  lives spent wrestling crowds,

                           where rowdies

                           have their way every day.

 

         “You idiot!  Can’t you read the signs?”

         “F--- you, genius!”

         “I’ll Call the cops!”

         Enter more horns — cum blasto!

 

No wonder the crowds spit them out

         and sent them south,

                  bumper to bumper

                  blasting away

                  shooting lip from the hip

                           mile after mile

                           wild west style . . .

 

                  . . . until they settled

                           into their ruts,

                                    repeating the retorts

                                             transplanted,

                           where sand dragged them to a stop in the sun,

                                    adding outside burns

                                             to their inside ovens,                                      

                           extending to others

                                    their hellish hot city covens. 

                          

It’s possible that this was all too much                

for a first-time snowbird

         unseasoned, senses askew,

                  over-hyped illusions

unable to generate enough internal personal spring

to tune out the cacophony.

 

There may have been poetry in the voices there

Some were trying to communicate,

but they were strangers

and they seemed insistent

on trying to communicate via their cars

 

         we seem capable of merging lanes,

but not people

         traveling enclosed

                                                               in dueling vehicles.   

 

No wonder roads rage.

 

We did finally hit our mark,

         our Mark and Tracy Spring,

                  complete with alligator . . . and darts.

 

         Host and hostess

         with the “sodas” —

                  not the “pop” —

         drinks and paella all around —

                  it never stopped.

Was it warm?

         on the porch

         by the pool

                  anywhere we were.

And were we cool?               

         all, way cool,

                  especially when the cameras came out.

 

There was Hannah

         with or without a banana;

Emily and Alyssa never missed a

         cheesecake opportunity.

Uncles, aunts, moms and dads,

grandmothers and papa

friends, dogs,

Brie’s monologs.

 

We finally located spring

. . . in the midst of what we were doing.

 

 

Dennis Keefe,

3/25/03