NaturesOde

He had gotten off the leash. Old Lady Walker not pursuing. Nine years together Sharing apartment and meals And music. But now separated By whimsy And forecast rain starting. Big red light overhead What's that? Carried on without a care. Number eight bus almost Took him down Giving one loud Sustained blast. No time or safety For transit driver to Slow down or brake. The fun of this adventure Was melting away. Missing Mama. And his pillow bed Under the Monet picture. Of those lilies. Beneath the arching Bridge.

  I saw a film once About a pro wildlife photographer A German man with happy family Diagnosed with terminal cancer. First the shock and pouting And Why Me Lord What did I ever do? And sitting at home. Lots. Then a determination to Go back to East Africa on safari With best of local guide drivers As close as possible to lion Elephant, wildebeest, giraffe. Campfires and laughter. What follows in the film. Breathtaking. Not going to blab anymore here. Gonna share the video. Artwork incomparable. https://www.klaustiedge.com/in-loving-memory-klaus-tiedge/

  They will let me out. Disengage the Lock Only to practise or perform Carnival Folly. Dancing, boxing, gymnastics Or some combination. Burns me all to HELL. When the confinement is relieved Think I can smell Wyming. Mountain air Pine or hemlock. Scent of the heat Of some enticing fresh Gal giving me the eye  Presenting for a fluid coupling. Cougars keep their distance Wolves Bison? Elk. The white menace with rifles. Some of each have felt The power of my arms The glare in my eyes The menace of my lordly roarings. But the present fiasco. Giggles and gawking. Such disgrace and dismantling. A little girl With pink candy floss Pointing at me. ME. HERE. NOW. (Inspired by a nature story written by Ernest Thompson Seton. Read as a family. Together and fascinated. The power of books.)

 

  In Norway with Morten Hilmer

  We have lost our way Sad to say so Belgian funded expedition Struggling through dense Congo jungle With intent to reach the  Atlantic shores. Large mammal presence Is said to be thriving there And content. Even playful. We bring with us Biologists, photographers Meteorologists and trackers. To take account. And to watch out for each other. But the jungles have turned us in circles Our compasses baffled. The skies hidden. Our skin ravaged by insects Our sleep tormented by screams Of the hunt, night birds. Also haunted by the prospect of Slithering, constricting visitors. One kill and they can Sleep for months. With all the progress leading Up to this late summer of 1894 One might think that We would manage Better than this. The Geographical Society command better. Hhhmmm. Bring on some sleep. Please. Three native bearers keep watch. Stout hearted chaps.

  From Camp Queen Elizabeth FB Group Can you hear him? How he commands the night? Ghostly yodel from lake’s far end Perhaps a buddy calls back. Primordial birds With a mystique  That enters your heart and blood And memories.