Moment of fame

Two women named Ann gave their names to Ann ARBOR;
I’d like to have a harbour named after me, or get a MEDAL –
a Michael Medal – and then perhaps I’d rise up from the TRIBAL
like a tall poppy, boozy on a highball, and a little WOOZY.

Devil’s Guises

DEVIL, being, unheroically, of many wiles,
EVOKEs flexibly: what will persuade?
GUISE is chosen fit for malediction needed.
FUNNY, too, is a guise. If it works.

Too few

GRASP my left hand when you shake and say
HOWDY; my right hand’s holding a parcel, or in your
LINGO, a package. Sometimes I wish I had a
THIRD hand, just for shaking; especially when tough hands crush!           

Leaden Skies

ENNUI, dull note droning all this season,
SPRIGs of hope withering before they green.
LATER days? Is this winter? Or a year of cooling, ash-cloud circulating planet?
SLUNK from me animal spirits, esprit, expectancy.
ARBOReal metaphor to ponder, the dropping of leaves followed by spring
MEDALLing in joy’s event. Or a tree, at whose root the axe is laid, for, say,
TRIBAL longhouse’s lodgepole, thus treasured, yet not standing, or–
WOOZY thought–tree engulfed in wildfire, among tens of thousands, gone.
LINGO might be found to name these story branches, but what word for the not knowing?
HOWDY to all the doubts, the unseen future, to the leaden skies that seem here to stay.
GRASP a slender thread–or sturdy anchor cable?–I am not my own.
THIRD of life left, perhaps. A third of a gift, followed by greater gifts.

Note: I borrowed from Mike and did three days at once.

2023-05-19 words

ARBOR, MEDAL, TRIAL, WOOZY

Note: due to a clerical type mistake, the word TRIAL above was originally posted at TRIBAL (which affected at least some DQP poems!).