walk with me this afternoon
no particular plan just fresh mountain air
wild roses gone wild; nest where mockingbirds had babies
when breathless we stop and watch clouds passing by
whoops ….I forgot your love for algorithms
why do you analyze every little thing until you exhaust yourself from too much thinking like a donkey
carrying a load of books on its back.
Dear heart, my offer still stands,
if you come without prejudice and
your I Phone

© 2020 Jennifer Brookins

I got up early this morning when darkness still covered the land; just had a feeling the stars would still be shining. Not good to make friends with a bed; too much sleep imprisons the soul. But to sit here in crisp late night air stargazing in wonderment and discover some lonesome adventurer looking down at me makes my heart break out in laughter. I call up. “Send me a sign, a paper airplane will do.” Just the thought makes my heart laugh … and I dream of you as the new day slumbers.

© 2020 Jennifer Brookins

on this cold winter day aviaries of black birds

feast on summer leavings

white tail deer munch in my garden

vagabond neighbors always welcome at our table

sometimes late in the day I see flocks of winged birds

headed for supper-fields

Weaver Ji,

guide them to your special place

where huckleberries grow wild in depths of snow

weatherman says more of the same

on the way

© 2020 Jennifer Brookins

poetry

When I sowed apple seeds, apples did I reap, thistles planted,
cyclops harvested. I am the unsung architect of my tomorrows, sculpting my destiny moment by moment, planting and harvesting, …planting and harvesting. How fruitless to arm extend into the future.


© 2020 Jennifer Brookins

Junior and the Road Apples

He had a twisted sense of humor like putting his hand down my blouse at the senior prom. He did this to all the girls, even my little sister who prayed to God for Junior to try this on her. She prided herself on beating up at least 3 boys in 3rd grade who dunked her pigtails in an inkwell. Today sitting with me in the third row at the Saturday all-cartoon matinee of Elmer Fudd, Yosemite Sam, Mickey Mouse, Wile E. Coyote, and her all-time favorite Bugs Bunny, she spied Junior easing himself over to a seat closer to us.  Little Sis yelled in a voice so loud people a mile away could hear,

“Hey Pervert, how bout these babies?” while yanking her Free the Slaves t-shirt over her head revealing two dots smaller than ink spots. Everyone in our small town, including the Uncles, had been the target of his off-color jokes and pranks. Despite constant pleas to come along on their hunting and fishing trips, the Uncles never agreed because Junior never stopped griping about their cooking. This trip was no different. They packed up the truck with necessary supplies, food, rifles, fishing rods, and headed out to their favorite camping grounds for a weekend of hunting and fishing. Finally, they agreed to let Junior tag along on one condition; that he stop complaining about their cooking.  

“Yes Sir” he cried out “I totally agree.” As insurance, they repeated that one complaint would land him the job of short order cook for life … if he lasted that long. The Uncles told Junior to swear on the Bible if their terms were agreeable to him. He once again cried out, “Done Sir!” as he slapped his hand on the good book.

   Next morning, the Uncles left early to do some fly fishing before Junior woke up. Along the way they noticed horse droppings, better known as Road Apples, on the pathway. They picked up a couple, hurried back to camp and dumped them into the beef stew they had prepared for Junior’s lunch. The minute they walked in the door, Junior demanded, “Where’s the grub?” whereupon they replied sweetly, “Beef Stew son. How does that sound?”

Junior exclaimed, “Great! Serve um’ up.”
After a couple of bites Junior looked them in the eyes and said, “This beef stew tastes a little bit like horse shit  …..but Good!


© Jennifer Brookins