Tiger Riding for Beginners

Traveling Poet Philosopher & Occasional Wiseacre

the tree that reaches
 over the hot spring-fed pond
 thrives on steam treatment.

the flower bobs
 on its long, stiff stem.
 the sage is unmoved.

the bee wallows 
 in pollen like a drunk
  sprawls on a bar’s floor.

winter clouds:
 will they / won't they rain? or snow?
 or just menace?

the sunflower 
 that bows its head in the sun
  feels pensive.

the river trickles.
 but its broad shoulders tell 
 of expectations.

in the dark valley,
 eyes settle on the one hilltop
 graced by sunlight.

a walk in the park:
 i breathe, we breathe,
 then we are breath.

waves crash ashore,
 churning waves to foam,
 white coastal frill.

clouds dance around
 the gibbous moon’s bright orb,
  one warm winter night.