WEDNESDAY MORNING, EARLY

There’s a new Perkins in town
just down the highway
from Martins Diner.
I’ve heard it’s pretty nice,
everything sparkly clean,
lots of fancy pancakes,
a sweet-looking girl
who meets you
at the door and takes
you to your table.

Got some competition now
I say to Thelma,
see if I can get her going.
She doesn’t take the bait,
just thunks my coffee
down in front of me
and stalks away. I wait
for her to bring
the half and half.
It doesn’t come.
Thing is, I say real loud
(and say it with a laugh),
from what I hear
the service over there
is great, topnotch.
That’s all it takes. I watch
her body freeze,
then turn my way.
For all I care,
she says, you can take
your hairy butt down there.
That would really make my day.

She doesn’t mean it
and knows I know.

I get up to go.
I think this time
I’ll leave a 2 dollar tip.

SNOWFALL OVERNIGHT

No matter how many times
you've seen it happen, whether
it had been forecast or not,
you will be hopelessly enchanted
when you wake to a white wonderworld.

A REFLECTION ON MICAH 4:3

Turning a sword into a plowshare
can be done with some serious
pounding and shaping. The same
goes for making pruning hooks
out of spears. To turn an automatic
weapon (think Glock) into
a useful tool is a bit more
complicated. Any ideas?

STRATEGY

Marvin has a new snowblower, bought
it last month and no doubt’s
been hoping it would snow ever
since. Now it has and he’s over there
clearing his driveway. He’s been at
it since 5 AM. Couldn’t wait
to get started even though
he doesn’t leave for work till 8.

There are rules that apply.
I can’t ask but I can
lean on my shovel and shake
my head and make
myself look pathetic and
if that doesn’t work
I can wait till I’m sure
he’s looking my way.

And wave.

KARMA KICKS IN

If you were lucky enough
to have a little sister
I hope you were kinder
to her than the boy
who took wicked
delight in filling her
days with assorted pokes
pushes and taunts all
designed to make her
cry or at least yell for
mother

If you were a nasty
little turd like that
I hope one afternoon that when
the two of you were playing
with Lincoln Logs and
you were up to your
usual meannesses

she picked one up and broke
it over your head

Lord
knows I had it
coming

WORD POWER

She chanted it defiantly:
"Sticks and stones
may break my bones
but names will never hurt me,"
wielded it like a warrior
backed up against a wall.
I don’t remember what
we had called her,
no doubt some ugly word
we’d heard a grown up
hurl in a rage.
Surely we didn’t know
what it meant, knew only
that it could hurt,
and when we saw
the tears on her face,
took malicious glee
in knowing we’d scored
a hit, no matter how many
times she repeated the mantra
her mother had taught
her to say.

ENTRY ROOM

Hated getting out of bed
that winter I worked for Bob Kurtz
whose farm was up the road a ways
Hated getting up two hours dark
before the school bus came
so I could help Bob milk his damn cows
Hated what I had to do --
pour feed into the troughs
lug steaming pails to the milkhouse
fork manure into the spreader
But mostly hated
the getting up and going

Icy air hit me as I left the house
swung my legs onto my bike
lunged into the darkness and the wind
the cold amazed me every time
stunned my throat my lungs
burrowed through my clothing to the skin
I shivered--shook--ground
my teeth in useless freezing rage

Strain up the hill and--at long last--
see the gable light beckon like the star the wise men followed
park the bike outside, yank open the stable door
cattle warmth surrounds--embraces--blesses
I sob with glad relief

You're late again says Bob
but merry Christmas anyway
he tosses me a ribboned Hershey bar and grins

Some say it's sad that Christ the king
had just a cattle trough for crib
I say a warm stable on a bone-cold morning
feels like the entry room to heaven

Maybe--for the Child--the entry room to earth