and they danced in the light of the moon

He brushed aside the crows feet, as the raven perched on his head,
sitting regally as a black swan.

The old man swatted it away -“Get off me, you ol’ chicken!”

“Your go – you said when you sat down here you were gonna play”

The small bat moved the pawn.

“No, no! We’re playing cards – deal those things!

“Are we playing gin again?”

“No, skat, you silly bat – but gin sounds perfect at a time like this.”

The small bat began to beat the rooks with the queen-
thwack ,thwack ,thwack with the constancy of a metronome.

“That queens gonna ice you good if you keep that up”

He sloshed gin from the old liquor bottle, into the teacup,
washing the faces of the painted orange flowers
and causing one nasturtium to hiccup quietly.

Rocking gently in the corner, the wheelbarrow creaked
as the long dragony tail of the crocodile kept time
with the blues man, his sax crying that black cat blues.

And the old man, grinning like a yellow toothed dog,
danced to the blues man’s tune
with Selene, her raven hair crowned with the crescent moon.

(Meanwhile, the raven and the bat played mumblety peg
with a needle in the haystack until the violinist played
last call.)

*** For dVerse Poetics, Claudia gave us a list to play with -Obelix, a dragon, a crocodile, an old tractor, a bat, a spaceship, Neptune, Superman, a greek god or godess, a chicken, a black swan, a nutcracker, a man who can’t stop clapping, a cup with orange flowers painted on it, a black cat, a dog with yellow teeth, a bluesman playing the saxophone, a violinist, Hänsel&Gretel, the Icequeen, an old liquor bottle, a wheelbarrow, a needle in a haystack, a raven, a blue car, a metronome…

Then an extra challenge, tell us about the old man, the moon and a little bat who meet at night here in the pub for a game of skat.

tripping over the colors as the sky drops the sun

Sunset before new years eve 2011

dots of rainbows
speckle the iridescent carp
eying the watermelon
skies
renaissance symphony
of gold and
light tab-
lets
cascade
into water-
color motets
awaiting insignificant
lolling mouths
in strophic sequence
from descant to sullen
sonic waves
wafting to
and fro
across the pining
ridge

*** For dVerse poetics, a rather psychedelic description of an Ozarks sunset – Groovy!

what is a wristwatch to an oak tree

July sunset

The sun is rising farther to the south
inching each day to the true east
to the equinox
Gnomon
the one who knows
his shadow casts the lengthening light across
the figured stylus
away from numbers and chimes
but into nature’s time
Time is not linear
but round
a spiraling cycle of sun and moon
Persephone’s choice
of resurrection and renewal
rising from the withered vine
to abundant grape and glory
only to wither again
Modern time is only a construct of conceit-
man controlling his minutes and hours
each tied to his wrist
or tucked into his vest pocket
to be worshipped
or rebuffed
or excoriated
until his final breath
But the old oaks stand
unhurried by the numbers and chimes
moved only by the moon’s tides
and the sun’s chariot travels
from light into light into light