in a greener world, he’d
be mayor and have a crew
of ministers: the naturopathic
minister of health, the wei
chi minister of welfare, the
feng shui minister of the
interior – the energy crisis would
be solved by channeling chi
sustainably, our happy everafters
fueled by higher powers (solar, wind)

baby chunky as a baby
squash, three weeks older than
my oldest, raised from seed
gangly in Tonasket then Pasadena
Boonville Santa Cruz now comfy
in Arcata – knack for snacks,
Macs, math, relative highs with
musical innocence wants to dance
play Pied Piper on trombone
whether or not you follow

love there sleeping while nobody
told you to unfold love
someone controlled you now it’s
turning surely we are learning
I’m watching from the wings
at the play that you are
staging admiring in silence the
watercourse of aging all our
weeping echoing in streams as
gentle as a consolation lullaby

(with assistance from George Harrison)

boxy house on Oak Street
for the summer, rent divided
six ways – but we should
have given you a room for free,
considering your contributions:
good cheer, practicality, friendliness,
and fun ideas – responsible for backyard
parties, communal meals, borrowed
lawnmowers, new ways to eat waffles –
made it all seem easy

(in her own words, of which I chose 50)

thrilled, beautiful, stunning, lush,
rich pinks with pale accents going
for BOLD — yellows and oranges,
deep purple accents, some white
wave petunias, casual, bright, informal
owner of Fiestaware for 8, turquoise,
shamrock, sunflower and tangerine,
lovely local restaurant, then shuttle
everybody home, home now, dream
group – killer virtual chocolate mousse

listening to intuition – for her,
I want to write about
The Star, not sure why
or how, but I see her in the Pool of
Motherpeace, pink flowers floating, while
managing whole realms of constellations
merely by slightshifting solar winds,
eyes closed – no idea if it’s
true, but seems felicitous