Best of Days-- Short Poems

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Also a little Haiku

Santa Cruz, the early morning’s
cold air damp and gray
than sunshine emerges gold and
folds into the maple and piney leaves
as curelium takes over high on the hills above
while over the ocean to the west still lies
the misty skies of blue haze


He sat and told me not to read
not NIH or Tumor Insight
or any such journal, he told me
to stop wondering what would be
when that happened he
and Stanford would tell me what I
could do.  the disease was very rare,
at 2 years I was well beyond the norm.
he told me to enjoy the bright purple
sun laced flowers, the white intensity of
the moon,  to walk my dogs 
to watch them play 
to be alive to the bird songs 
before the winds and waves come crashing
through the darkness of the storm


ocean waves roll in foam
winds howl clouds darken streets roll
mother earth takes hold

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