I-N-V-A-L-I-D

 

My retinue of roles

On their journey

Playing out the rules

    Let me get that door for you

    May I help you up that curb

        Young man

Young man?!

 

Life's logic urges

Move along

 

Were I to question that logic

One of us could be declared

As/an

 

I-N-V-A-L-I-D

 

DRK

1/16/25

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BACKYARD SUMMER DRAMA

The last dog walked

and garage rolled shut,

backyard stirrings cue

the porch’s invitation

promising tonight’s

summer evening presentation. 

Take a chair

dim the lights.

the curtain rises . . .

to heavy muggy air

settling, darkening to night –                                                              

harkening the first fireflies...

Stage left, then right.

Rise and disappear.

Cricket interludes intrude –

scattered . . .

building . . .

pulsing . . .                                             

to a surround sound

insect etude.

Rock it, cricket, rock it, cricket

rock it, rock it, rock it, rock it, . . .,

          

From a tree,

Excited chirping

sears the air –

trumpeting tension.

Unseen.

Where?

Minute gnats

take the air bringing

twisting bats weaving

through their dinner space.

Then long-awaited fireworks    

slo-mo, everywhere                             

rise and disappear –

a firefly ground finale,                   

ballet sans choreography

the heated evening mating urge, severe.

Rock it, cricket, rock it, rock it, rock it

A stir of breeze;

showers rattle the maple leaves.

The drama cools.

Night’s curtain falls.

Time to  exit

reluctantly

Dennis R. Keefe

May3, 2007

 THE LAST BIRD WORDS


The roll was taken from the porch,
    in whispers,
of those who came to our backyard vespers.

Neighborhood redbirds
and red breasts arrived
with the slipping evening light
to claim their first-come, first-served
roosting rights.

An evening duel ensued
o’er who would have
the last bird words.

The redbirds, last at the feeder,
    chirped it shut for the night,
but couldn’t out-wait
the robins’
slow, drawn out antiphons,
    warbling down from the trees,
    trailing silence through the leaves.

These psalm-like prayers
prompted  "Amens"
from those below
not too busy to care
    who sang when
        or if the last solar lantern
            came on before ten.


Dennis R. Keefe, 9/30/12

 

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

 

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