PAPER BALL AND BROOMSTICK BAT

Toad in Tree Root

(Note: If you would like to hear a "concept album," click on the title below.)

BACKYARD  BASEBALL

One of us poised near tree roots,
grasping a ball of twisted, wet paper
wrapped in rubber bands, the other, in front
of the shed door, waving a broken broom handle.

The ball flew like thought
from mound to shed, and both of us           Open a door.
connected, four or five times, whacking
it over the leafed-out fruitless mulberry

to plop in the neighbor’s yard. Like
super stars in a world series game,
for an afternoon we were sometimes one 
with bat and ball, clearly reading

the opposition. Then Dad died,
and you soon moved away. The tree 
rotted from within, a stump where
two toads made their home                       Open door #2. 

in the hollow roots, the eaves
of the shed dangling a long beehive,
the house finally abandoned. 
In the shed thick with webs, 

I found the broom handle
and stepped up to the plate.  As 
I swung the bat, I recalled
how you smacked the ball so sweetly

that it sailed high over
the tree, over the fence,
and kept flying to where                          Open door # 3.
we could never find it again.

CHRISTMAS IDEAS

Bad Fairies

CHRISTMAS PRESENTS

My brother blew me a booger,

my sister boxed up a roach,                      Find some coins.

Jack wrapped a moldy burger,

Sally pinched till I screamed “Ouch.”

A bully gave me a wedgie,

the pastor put coal in my sock,

teacher awarded dried algae,                         Take a different path.

my best friend forked over a rock.

But I gave the best presents ever

to throw one and all for a loop.                             Open a door.

They’ll think me and doggie so clever

when they unwrap their gifts stuffed with poop.

PLAYING IN A FAIRY GARDEN

Gnome and Fairies with Tiger Lilies

FAIRY GARDEN

The moment Mom allowed a fairy into her garden, 
I glimpsed the skulking shadow of a troll.
Before I could even say, "I beg your pardon,”          Take a different path.
It commanded me to pay a toll.

“I just want to sniff the handsome roses,”
I whimpered as I backed away in fright.                     
“I only want to chew your little toeseees”--
A gremlin lunged to take a tiny bite.

I screamed and started flying toward a door
blocked by mocking elves whom I abhor.                     
Swarms of sylphs lifted from the hellebore,
finding hair, ears, and nostrils to explore.

Goblins beat on drums of water                              Find a strange room.
while a gnome cut loose a raucous snore.
The troll jumped on the teeter-totter
and made a phoenix soar.

If Mom won’t make the beasties leave,
I might begin to twitch--                                           
I’m tempted to make them all behave                    
by changing into a witch.

PLAYING TAG BY THE KINGS RIVER

Lupine Near Kings River

TAG 

They twirled me around                       
ten times at the edge                            
of the campground                        
then scattered 
                                                                      Take a different path.
as I swayed a little, then
lunged at them, each one
vanishing into bushes               
by the river, the water

roaring into a still,                                   Take a different path.
deep pool, then 
sweeping around a bend, 
a phoebe chirping, barely
                                                                        
out of my reach, on a twig
above the shining edge 
of the pool and the rapids--                    Take a different path.
I was tempted to forget the game

Woodstar, Fiesta Flowers, Chinese Houses
Near the Kings River

and swim across, the water 
smooth for a stretch,                             Take a different path.            
then pitilessly raging,
but I saw my brother,

fifty feet away, scrambling                            
as if his life depended
on it, and I sprinted
like mad, twenty feet                 Take a different path.

away before he 
disappeared into
the deer brush, and I                            
gave up. Alone 

Vetch and Lupine near Kings River

and lost, I knew that I
had failed.  As I                       
leapt across a backwash,
my friends seemed

so distant, impossible                              Take a different path.
to reach. Two feet away,
the water raged, the sun
kindling my breast,                

the trees and bushes so
peaceful that I felt
one with sycamores                        
and oaks and plants

whose names I didn’t know, 
my soul for the first time                              Take a different path.
connecting with the spirit
of the river--and I no longer
                                               
wanted anything else.
An hour later, my brother
found me and scornfully
asked where I’d been,                           Take a different path.

before we marched back to camp
where I saw again in the distance
the shining edge of the pool            
and the pitiless rapids.

MOONLESS NIGHT

North Fork, Kings River

INITIATION

Rumor was the other scouts planned to strip us
down to underwear, cover us in molasses,
pour cornflakes all over us, urinate on us,
and throw us into the swift river

at midnight. Instead, after dark 
they lured me far beyond
the campground and ditched me.
No moon. No flashlight. At first,

I inched forward, striving to avoid
holes, rocks, fallen branches. When
I felt hopeless, I listened for the river 
and lurched toward its dull roar until

I found a mossy outhouse at the edge
of the campground. Exhausted
by a day of sprinting everywhere, truth
be told, l knew that I would not have lasted

until midnight. Truth be told, I didn’t realize
that being ditched was my first initiation
until forty years later, when once again
alone in the darkness, I recalled

locating the silent camp and crawling
deep into my sleeping bag, warmed 
by breath and body heat--so deep
I wondered for a moment if I might

suffocate while I slept, but I woke 
to my Dad outside the tent wondering
where I was. Ready for a new day,
ecstatic that my worst fears had not

been realized, I was like someone
who could not be hurt for long, who
would always find his way even
on a moonless night. If I could

relive that moment so intensely
that I would experience all without
bitterness or regret, letting go
of whatever does not serve me,

would I be like an eternal child
or god in some perpetual dance?

MY DOG PEPI, THE LOVE SPONGE

Pepi in Poppies

PEPI THE GREAT COCKAPOO

Charging herds of cattle,
he convinced them to stampede--
They headed up and headed down
and headed straight at me.

Up to his neck in cold creek water,
he would take a little drink,
but when he heard bath water
he’d hide beneath the sink.

He yapped maniacally at quail,
but never caught a one. 
Once he chased a slow coyote
deep into its lair,

then yipped his little head off
to make them all aware.
With an alpha close behind
my munchkin trotted back

as though he’d conquered Asia
and left them blind with fear.
The alpha stared a minute,
appraising both its prey--

It looked at him, and then at me,
then shrugged and loped away.
Sniffing holes near boulders,
for a little taste of rodent,

my friend again ignored my calls 
and barked so loud a bobcat
scrambled by me down the hill--so fast
I never touched my knife.

Once he charged a dog as large
as a smallish bear, and the monster
squatted on his body--the Great Pepi
was simply trying to protect me.

Unable now to even move, he yelps
at death--I lightly cradle his head
and know from him I learned a little
about what it means to be human.

DITCHED AGAIN

Poppies and Miniature Lupine

DITCHED IN THE FOREST

I galloped along a trail
without any sense of direction,
the forest suddenly silent
after my friends
scattered. I knew
they were hiding
somewhere, hoping
I would panic. His father
dead from cancer at forty,
Alan had emerged, wild
and fearless, as our leader--
always at war. He,
somewhere, was laughing
at me. One night,
we had followed him
on a raid of a rival
scout troop, and at his
bidding, I had pounced
on a pup tent,
flailing with my fists
on the boys inside
until they were quiet.
Then we trotted off
and crouched in the grass,
until Alan, without
warning, called out
the other troop. As they
dashed toward us
in total darkness,
Alan swung a long chain
over his head--and if I
had not blurted out
a warning, they would not
have backed off
in time. Alan recently
had gotten his hands
on a bottle of 151 rum
and soda, mixing
the liquids in a cup;
at his command,
three times I guzzled
fire. Then we pedaled
to Alan’s house to play cards,
my head reeling in
half an hour. I soon
passed out, throwing up
all over the table. They
dragged me to the park
and made me jog back
and forth--even though
I kept collapsing. I was
half-dead for three whole days.
Once I also followed Alan
into a cave; he turned off
the flashlight and ditched me
in complete darkness--I only
inched my way out
by feeling my way along
the cold stone walls.
Lost in the forest, I once again
cursed Alan, but I sensed
that he had a strange need
To make each one of us feel
vulnerable and alone
even as he demanded
that we always join him
in his interminable battles
against the world. I,
strangely, didn't feel alone
as I brushed the rough bark
of an oak and the delicate petals
of lupine and poppies.

Lupine and Poppies

I was totally worn out
by the time I, purely
by chance, stepped out
of the forest at the point
where they were throwing
rocks at the river. As we
rode home, I had a premonition
that I too would lose my father
soon. I tried to dismiss
the thought, but it stayed
with me for a twenty
terrible minutes as we wound
down the mountain side,
and I knew it was out
of my control. I would be lost,
completely alone, and maybe
I would remain that way for the rest
of my life, and no matter what I did
or how hard I tried, nobody would
understand my loss. As the car
wove down the hill, the feeling
slowly subsided, and I forgot
as I gazed out the window
at the brilliant flesh
of flowers on the slopes.