The pecan fell from the tree then rolled to a stop , it's new home was between the roots and the rocks
Twas a sheltered , one of a kind bit of nutmeat
this odd pecan , trapped between becoming a meal
or buried in leaf cover , crushed by the hoof of wild
hogs or miraculously skipped over
To lay introverted among ones peers is really no
life at all
To float aimlessly on calm waters going nowhere
or to risk the waterfall leading one to places unknown
O how I wish my parents could have been tall trees
by the creek shore* ....

If you see
A poor old man
Sitting on the street

Then pick him up
Dust him off
And put him on his feet

But if he starts
To complain
By giving you some lip

Then sit his ***
Right back down
And don’t leave him a tip
WIZDUMBs BY JA 268

They lie warm together
In the afterglow of torrid love
Her head on his chest, he says
"Sing me to sleep, my love"
So she hums and croons
A tune he does not recognize
With soothing sounding words
In a language he does not recognize
"I love you," he murmurs as his eyes close
"I know," she says smiling
And so, as he sleeps
She lies open-eyed
Imagining a future he will not recognize

                                        By Phil Roberts

Dig a quarter acre pond , keep it filled with clean , aerated water
and small fish will appear on their own before three summers have passed , I kid you not* ....

Organic electronic sounds
reverberate throughout
this closed up room,
and I am swathed
in crisp white sheets
and indigo delirium.

The sun slips in and out
between the leaves
holding their breath
outside my window,
and I inhale
air that is heavy
with lost words
and melancholia.

The walls are grey here
and they call for sleep
and great cerulean silences,
things that might heal.
But old lovers keep on
sending messages
like Morse code
and new lovers
cut their teeth on
my collarbones,
smiling at the novelty
of a pretty face and
a sick mind.