NOODLING WITH FAME
The waiter finally serves
aromatic Penne Arrabbiata,
a feast for my friend and me.
As my fork nears my mouth
a stranger approaches,
drops to one knee,
takes my hand, says,
"You mean so much to me.
I appreciate all you do, Lois."
I'm baffled, then amused:
one more constituent confuses me
with our local congresswoman.
Torn between going along,
smiling, thanking him politely,
getting a campaign contribution,
or "You idiot, get off the floor!",
I apologize for being merely me,
try to ease his feeling foolish,
then turn to my cold pasta.
NATURE'S TEACHER
We humans work so hard: how many times
do I have to say I'm here to be here?
At a sensory awareness class we separate,
climb down fifty steps to the rocky shore.
Like peculiar birds we move among boulders,
seek a perfect perch. With journals open,
wait for words, express experience into event.
On an ocean rock a cormorant suns his wings.
POP
In his arms,
nestled,
I feign sleep,
a princess
transported,
innocent
and wily,
mindless
of changes
coming,
endings
on their way.
