Peonies

I've loved peonies since I was a small child. 

Their size and fragrance fascinated me, 

but they were always gone to soon, their petals

laying wilted and bereft of color on the ground

while I looked in vain for another bud.

It was a real treat to find these peonies blooming

in the yard of a vacant home.

Would anyone have missed them if I'd picked a few 

for myself? Instead of committing peonicide 

I chose to leave them where they grew.

A Bit of Sun

Thunderstorms raked across the Midwest yesterday morning, 

causing devastating tornado damage in Oklahoma.

Overnight, storms had swept through Indy, leaving tree branches

strewn across lawns all over town.

However, while I was walking to the bus stop, the morning sun

had managed to break through the cloud cover, shining through the

Japanese maple leaves and seeds on a neighbor's tree.

Textured Tuesday: Corrugated Concrete

I've lost count of the number of times I've walked along the Canal.

 It wasn't until last week I noticed the beautiful mottling 

of the concrete retaining walls along the Canal basin, 

near the fire station. The walls are corrugated, not only to create 

some visual interest, but to increase reinforcement of 

the walls themselves. The fact that such beautiful colors and textures

 have appeared over time, simply adds to the subtle

beauty of the place.

Purple and Green

Why is it that nature always gets its color schemes right, 

while people never take the hint, often getting it wrong?

I mean, flowers never show up in a ghastly plaid,

with yellow and black too tight for their rose hips.

Even with their blatant sensuality, flowers' curves 

never quite spill out of their gowns.

People, though, are a whole 'nuther story.

Sunset Reflections

On my way last night to the restaurant where I would have dinner, 

I passed through a side street that was brightly lit from the early evening sun.

However, the sun's light was cast from the east, reflected by

the gold-colored glass on a nearby office building into

the narrow little chasm between buildings.

Crooked

After work, I went to the Natatorium to take care of some business, 

then walked back downtown to go to dinner.

A thunderstorm had passed through, leaving the city wet 

and shiny in the late afternoon sun.

I passed by the Indiana State Capitol building

where I saw this fine old tree, crooked and mossy.

Sadly, my first thought was that the tree's appearance

describes perfectly the corruption of the processes

inside that beautiful building. 

Flying

I see you and I can barely keep my feet upon the ground.

I want so much to fly, to turn and twist,

To soar and dip in the sunlit sky like a pink kite,

Fluttering, darting, my ribbon streamers trailing a dancing path

Until, at last, I descend, running a few light steps upon the ground,

Once again anonymous, unseen by you,

Oblivious to my joy.