My Other Couch

My other living room is a forested park on the edge of town.

My other couch is a bench on the cusp of the park on the cliff overlooking the trees.

My other TV is the leaves that illuminate the light green, the blue jay that flutters past and the passerby jogger or dedicated mother making their way to their next engagement.

At the Corner of Love & Loss

At the corner of love and loss, I watch both the train and the boats scurry and scuttle into the night.

Part of me is envious of those in motion.

In front of me, the ferry boats, like  small trays of candlelight floating on the water, intersect and reflect each other, fading into the distance.

Behind me, the last bit of the train sounded as if a small mighty mouse was pushing the entire train forward all by himself while yelling: "outta my way, I've got places to be!" in a pitch almost exclusively heard by dogs.

What in life is not worthy of poetry?
For isn't everything beautiful and worth wonder?
I would certainly like to think so.

The future

If a picture is worth a thousand words 

Then a hyperlink with a video attachment is probably worth something like fifteen-hundred words.