Inchoate Spring


In my neck of the woods this false Vernal Season

Inchoate Spring is plainly a copy of Winter:

Frigid April is insanely more like December,

Frozen neighborhoods an extra snow to squeeze in.

Trade in the scarecrow for a frosty snow totem

Break out snow shovels and salt since I still own them.

“All in good time,” I tirelessly repeat,

Be gone freezing rain and nasty old sleet.




Frigid Thoroughbreds in April

Horse Thoroughbred in snow 2

Photo credit  Alexas_Fotos

April Thoroughbreds run frost bitten,

wearing coats and scarves even mittens.

Ice and snow on the track

frozen Jockeys aback,

Frigid Dame Spring ain’t soon a-quittin’.



Limerick for the soon-to-open Keeneland spring meet, a Thoroughbred racing season in Lexington, Kentucky.


Identical, an Ocean Poem



I hear the ocean in a shell,

Alike but not identical.

I sniff the ocean in a shell;

It’s not the same wet salty smell.

I wade knee deep in the warm-gray-soupy water,

And race back to the beach when I spot a floater.

I feel the sea, the powerful motion

And play dodge-shark–this is the real ocean.



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