Upside
Down
The ceiling is the floor
The floor is the ceiling
Look up at the carpet
Stand on stucco
The furniture is too high
Step up through the door
Fall into the sky
Observe streets above
Amazing how cars and trees hang there
And planes and clouds swim in lower blue
Say goodbye to the wet welkin
Gaze down to the only void
Keep falling to be surrounded by black
Giant marbles all around float along
Now up is no longer relevant
But the existence of a soul still important
Upward Bound
The ramp is a time machine
And I’m the one powering it
Walking to class every summer
The ramp is the angular plane
I ascend into a future which becomes
Present, then descended passed
I’m the one who used to be young
Reddish brown beard turned gray
Now glasses like Santa Clause
Walking with a tee shirt on, cut off shorts
Tennis shoes, white socks...oh well...guess
Some things don’t change too much
Vista Point
Pan down from vast
Baby blue sky
Low horizontal clouds
Over brown haze
Inside one can make out
Downtown skyscrapers
Come closer and see
Colorado Boulevard buildings
Looking like a village
Surrounded by trees
Just below the foothills
Houses, backyards, pools
Matchbox cars parked
On the gray veins
Wooden telephone poles
Veer away from hills
On the dusty trail
Groups of morning walkers
Sweaty steady runners
Water bottle equipped hikers
Wear wide brimmed
Earth-colored hats
A father carries young
Son on his shoulders
White bearded man leans
On a crooked cane past
Agave cacti, shrub roots
Run alongside cliffs
Hybrid butterflies dance
Around purple thistle
Bee flies dart into/
Out yellow mustard
Spot a long spotted
Lizard in the brush
An empty Capri Sun
Packet on the path
Clear plastic sandwich
Bag at the edge
Torn portion of 500 count
Bath tissue farther away
Cobalt beer can rests
Amidst the bushes
Pick Up Walk
Even though the dog we sat
has been gone for a week
I don't want to lose the habit
So I tell my wife let's stroll
despite being animal-less
look at the morning moon
We retrace a familiar path
the street we've known
for five cohabitating years
Only this time we stumble
upon a menagerie of toys
strewn on a green verge
There's a smiling pink whale
an assortment of tea cups
scattered miniature road signs
Among other smaller objects
tiny flatbed cargo trucks
and faux medicine applicators
I stop and contemplate why
they are there so jumbled
Were they left in haste
We continue our sojourn
and sight the usual succulents
that look like green flowers
A knotted tree makes great
photography except in color
Mockingbird remembered
A sidewalk corner sports
a spray painted black X with
two red circles like angry eyes
My love says see the plane
encountering some clouds
it is circling around okay
But my mind cannot leave
the collection of children's
discarded happy plastic
When we return I postulate
if they are abuse victims
I hope both are safe now
What can we do but incant
my wish for no violence
by pilfering one favorite
To take home and gaze
upon to remind myself
we all need some magic
Just to successfully go
through each diurnal
in a world of humans
Who can become forgetful
that small creations do
help us plan our lives
Which depend on others
to either support or break
the dreams of futures
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