*
After walk coffee
misty morning road loaded
with flushed-out dead worms
Jim Bodeen
16 November 2025
Working Barrow
Working with my red
wheelbarrow turning compost
broken eggshell spiced
Jim Bodeen
31 October 2025
80 COOKIES
80 COOKIES
There was music. Poetry. Books. Jewelry. There were assemblages and readings. A cobbler. There were stories and song and memorias y visiones. And friends getting older together. There was a kidnapping and baseball. Outrage. Stones polished and Stones cut. There was fishing, fish, and fish tales. There are candles. There is ceremonia. There is language and people from all over. The home team won.Karen. Friends appearing, and what performances. That bomb. There were some phone calls. A couple of invitaciones. Even so, All of the peach pie didn’t get eaten. From this end, buckets of gratefulness. Many thanks. And as Van sings: That ain’t all there is.
Jim Bodeen
9 August 2025
HAND-RUBBED
Hand-rubbed, hand-polished, discovered suiseki. Some see the the poem, some feel the stone. While sitting on a rock in a river. Years ago. Many hands have participated in the shining. The stone, of course, so much older than the poem, or is it the other way around. Both coming from the same source, different rivers. But what is the attraction? And calling.
MY TOOLS?
MY TOOLS?
The pruner, of course,
in its holster on my belt.
And what else?
Two screw drivers.
One a Phillips.
A hammer, for nails, with a claw.
Wood saw
and a mallet.
Two mallets,
one by mistake
Power tools, too?
Sander and drill.
I don’t plumb.
Oh. The tool box.
My parents gave it to me at Christma.
I must have been 20.
60 years ago.
Jim Bodeen
28 June 2025
SUMMER SOLSTICE PRAYER
SUMMER SOLSTICE PRAYER
--for my granddaughter, S. A. M.
Didn’t bake the bread
but picked the strawberries and
preserved them in jam
Jim Bodeen
22 June 2025
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