Letters for June 7, 2018

Spring-to-summer poetry

Fans of this page will recognize the name Ron Lowe, from Nevada City. Ron sends us letters almost every week, and has been doing so since around 2002, as far as I can tell. We don’t publish them all but we’ve published six pages of Google-results worth, from impassioned, articulate criticisms of Pres. George W. Bush to impassioned, articulate criticisms of Pres. Donald J. Trump. Occasionally, Ron sends our readers words of inspiration—poetic, spiritual musings. Last week, he sent these. Happy here-comes-summer.

—Eric Johnson, Sacramento

On such a Spring day,
O to be a catcher, on
some old baseball team

It’s a windy day…
A woman has on her scarf
and the wind likes it

The old streetsweeper
bows ceremoniously
at the fish ’n’ chips

Ah, wash day, with her
laundry nose, warm clothes,
gentle / gentle

In this big old house
that we call the whole universe
a cricket singing

Suckin’ blackberries
right off the vine in the heat
of mid-morning

My morning coffee—
a battle over nothing
goes on in my mind

How many crickets
are making all of this noise?
Maybe there’re just two

Sometimes, as I pass,
the lake just grabs me, takes me
for a swim… like this

The child gestures
for the trucker to sound his horn;
The trucker does it

We go for a walk
down a street we have found
where the sun spends more time

A kind apple tree
at the edge of the orchard
slips us some good ones

Front page, Sunday Times:
a photograph of Hale-Bopp
over Mt Fuji

Once they see the dog
the geese & goslings find
the middle of the lake

The hawk, launching
from the pine into deep space, glides…
All’s well in the world

The fragrance of
The wysteria bloom lifts me
from the earthly realm

Out of the garden,
the neighborhood cat, springing!
after some creature

The two small airplanes,
doing side-rolls together
across a spring sky

The river is high,
and we go laughing, bouncing
with it to the sea

Meeting an old love..
things have turned out for the best
both of us agree

Ah, yes, now’s a time
fer a wee pint & fer a
readin’ ’a Chaucer!

Tooth fairy money:
she is six & has plans to buy
all this ice cream…

Trees pass by in a
dream state… headed north
into the country by rail

The young frogs, leaping
high into the air from the banks,
into the clear creek

Cattle grazing at the lake,
a hawk in the pine…
Evening harmony

Red roses in a
blue vase…It doesn’t get
any better than this

The pups follow him,
crashing into each other,
Intentionally

Today, more blossoms,
more bees, on the almond tree
I wanted to cut down

Reaching for the lights,
getting the wipers instead,
As rain falls softly

In the spring sunrise
everything seems possible,
with the robin’s consent