Thoughts of it

  I

The sound of one hand clapping, 

Or a tree falling in the wood

Where no one is near to hear it

The sound of a flower opening 

Or footsteps crunching snow

Shovels scrapping ground below it

The sound of a page turning

Thoughts, images, leaping and

Hopping, racing all around it

The sound of a body wiggling

Softly stretching, or dancing

To the music as she feels it

The wolf moon rises shining

Shudder to imagine the howls

That echo when he realizes it

Art is creating and making

Something new or repurposed

There is a reason to be it

  II

The handy spatula scrapping

Along the inside of the glass jar

To get the last, and all of it

Post deluge, raindrops dripping

Through the downspout

Persistent rhythm of it

Success results from planning

Sweat as much as luck makes

What is adjacent possible for it

The single act of creating

Making anything substantial, or not,

focuses your attention on it

The sound of humanity making

A ruckus, or exchanging something

Wet and wonderful, tops all of it

Artificial stuff can be revolting

but we can return humanity

Back to be at the center of it

So Sherlock, we can't go scrolling

Trolling, lost among the detritus; 

Reach out, hands together, we'll live it

The living room

I

The balsam pine visited the corner of our living room

Bringing colorful lights and ornaments to the living room

Colorful lights helped to counter the period of darkness

As days grew shorter, casting less light into the living room

Various ornaments shared bits of memories, places visited,

Times of life, milestones, all within reach in the living room

The irony of the evergreen tree once outside in fullness of life

Cut and carried in to stand in the corner of the living room

The evergreen drank heartily for several days, then stopped

There was still water in the tree well in the living room

The pine needles once flexible became pointy hard

And started to fall covering the tree apron in the living room

  II

The annual ritual to undo the decorations, place the ornaments

Safely away until they'll be brought next year to the living room

The angel on the top of the balsam is the first one on but the last 

One off as the lights are unbound from the tree in the living room

The strings of light are coiled and returned to their containers

For storage until next year when they come to light the living room 

The balsam is removed from the stand, carried back outdoor

To await the curbside pickup, leaving empty space in the living room

Vacuum and other cleaning elements are found to clean up

The trail of the tree out the door from the living room

When the cleaning is complete, furniture can be rearranged 

To fill in the empty space where the tree visited in the living room

So Sherlock, will you ever get an artificial tree to make all this

Easier? No, there must be room for life in the living room