Afternoon Condition        
 
I'm parked on the levee in the shade of old oak tree,
"La Mer" on the radio.
Though its long been determined,
the afternoon can't decide which way to go.

Up at the intersection, an occasional car
rolls by, always bound for somewhere else.

A latent breeze carries the musty scent of oak,
hot barn wood, and tractor grease.

The afternoon, and it is not alone,
wants to stop here forever,
but succumbs, instead,
as I do,
moment by moment,
to the inexorable and ubiquitous
sweet, terrible Time.


Huge Fire       

"Huge Fire in Oakland"
the headline proclaims
in large block letters
but briefly to my eyes
before the pages (and those behind it)
are crumpled and laid in the stove,
where, with some kindling
and a couple small logs,
they will soon provide me
and the room
with a cheery fire
and a modest measure
of welcome heat.


Pebbles in a Pond...               

The stone soon finds peace
on the muddy bottom.
The bubbles vanish
in a blink of the eye.
But the ripples...oh,
the ripples
circle outward
forever
in your mind.



© Fred Staal