POLLEN ON THE LITTLE POND

 

Pollen grains float on the air;

green and yellow clouds

obscure and coat the landscape and water

in a haze of vague imagery

that unsettles the eyes’ mastery

of light and shadows.

 

They blockade the pond’s surface

          with strands of froth and sludge

                    that slowly move to the water’s edge

                             on wind drafts and water ripples.

 

Until there is a thick outline

          around a description of the surrounding trees

                    and a deep sky above. 

 

Until the pollen grains become embedded

          in the muddy sediment

                   where water meets field,

                             and millennia from now

                             core samples of earth

                                       will hold fossilized grains,

                                                 like dinosaur bones,

                                                          to let others know

                                    

                   What ancient flora

                           lived here in my time.

 

cmheuer©05/2024 

          

VANDALS

 

Too many kick down sand castles,

Stamp on towers and turrets,

Tear away curtain walls and battlements,

Drag their feet across mounds of sand,

Smirk and laugh, as they walk along

            the edge of the ocean.

 

Perhaps they do not see the builders,

Crouched along the shore

            with their buckets and shovels

Packing and sculpting sand into havens

For imaginations that see a world

Where builders outnumber vandals.

 

Where builders write, and

Ink is not smeared,

Paper is not torn, and

Centuries of truth building

Are not demolished. 

 

cmheuer©2/2024