We Can't Be Having With Any of This

Mr Moose came a-hump along one day
He wore his special antlers and his newest green beret
He huffed a cigarillo, smoking circles to the sky
And pausing debonairly, watched a grizzly bear pass by.

"Hello Mr Grizzly", Moose gravelly intoned
"Would you care to share a cigarette or did you bring your own?"
"I do not smoke" did grizzly then gruzzily reply
"It's harming to the windpipes and the upper larynges"

"Do you use them much?" said Mr Moose, furrowed in his thoughts
"I do indeed," puffed Grizzly, "As often as I aught.
"For I do the 'Opera' at all the biggest shows"
"Oh!", mused Mr Moose before he quizzled down his nose.

"What is this here 'Opera'? A trick? A song? A speech?"
"Hardly", laughed the bear with glee "For if singing were a peach
"Then Opera'd be raisins tumbling freely from the sky"
"Fair enough" grinned Mr Moose, and promptly said "Good bye"

We
Fragile creatures all
Limbs too small
To reach the ground
For any length of time
Before gravity
Carries us six feet down.

We
Warmed by an inner fire
Breathing the infinite
Like virgin mountain air
Poised on the precipice
To leap
And be carried forever.

Were we strangers
On stranger tides?
Afloat adrift at sea
Counting the waves from the shore.

Haircut (Or, That Thought I Had When I Looked Into The Mirror)

The mirror always looks younger
In the aftermath of a haircut:
Brown strands of time,
No longer hanging from my head
Rather, lying hacked in heaps.
Tufted burial mounds,
Honouring the remains of weeks
This face will never see again.

If God is so good,
Why isn't He me?

Small
The beginning
A seed's shadow at first light
On a stage of lifeless earth
The hint of a fragrance
Suggesting that all things
Will be found small in its branches
Sheltered

Hope
Is the backbone's
Backbone