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
--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
JUNE JOY JOLT
All afternoon
delight swung right through despair
Jim Bodeen
15 June 2025
BEING THE DOMESTIC
in this house, I can tell you
some things you’d never discover.
Grunge in the fridge
isn’t something talked about.
The gardener takes
his cue from me
without a clue
to coding priorities.
The people who live here
live outside all summer long.
harvesting only contorted
sticks from a man who created
this tree in a laboratory.
Not a one sold in five years
should tell you enough.
His compost, all perfume.
Jim
7 June 2025
A post card poem for Jim Hanlen
JUNE DAYS
Four new born birds
learning to fly
sticking close
on Bloodgood Maple
next to feeder
full with thistles
making the leap
one at a time
the morning
my granddaughter
graduates
I’m picking strawberries
making jam porch sitting
Robins arriving
last week for Juneberries
already too fat
to fly spend
half their time
taking baths
in fountain
Nobody in any hurry to leave
Jim Bodeen
6 June 2025
LAST DAYS OF MAY
Rain last night,
disturbing roof taps
get me up
to bring cushions on porch
under cover, covert,
quiet, ever domestic
now, grace timing Karen
before her beauty moves
fabric and color. More sleep
while I write my cousin
the long letter for her
difficult story. Light moves
clouds from porch
and even Texas seems possible
to write into her story.
I bring Karen watermelon
spears sensuously sliced,
slender like fingers, show
her the letter to my cousin,
water her geraniums,
drizzling again, Karen goes
back inside while sky clears
and I strap on belt, holster,
pruners, moving to South Gate
with yard bin--Rose of Sharon
squeezed between old rose
and tree hydrangea. It’s muggy.
I break a sweat. It’s time
for Karen’s CT scan
on her throat. Time
to go. Will there be
lemonade for what parches?
Jim Bodeen
29 May-9 June 2025
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