Chuck Toll

When out of sorts with life or self,
A porch is hard to beat
As long as you’ve a comfy chair
And space to stretch your feet.
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We neither pity other creatures nor feel sorry
for ourselves. Life does what it must, so do we.

We accept what there is: snakes, bugs, mice,
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Kayaking on the East River, my daughter
Met a coyote swimming and offered help.
It declined, adding it needed the exercise.
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I really want to know whether you exist or not!
Your site has several “Contact Us” links, and
Emails to you produce an “Auto-Thank You”
But our messages then get lost in cyberspace
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Four score and more can be a drag.
I’ve watched my face in mirrors sag.
My fiber diet makes me gag.
Alas, my tail has lost its wag.
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One April Claude Monet became enraptured
With an oak, a vision begging to be captured
On canvas, bare limbs stark against the light.
Magnifique! Mon Dieu, he’d paint this right!
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The moose, silent at twilight in the mountain pond, watched us
Approach down the tree-canopied ravine without alarm.
It chomped calmly, water grasses dripping from its mouth.
While not inviting us to stay, it seemed to have no objection
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Our small New England town buried a son yesterday,
A young soldier killed on duty in Afghanistan.
It was our first casualty in struggles far away
But, as it had proved, not sufficiently removed.
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“This is a defining moment, ” proclaims our president loudly
As Malaki leading several newly minted regiments proudly
Rushes to Bosra to attack the Shiite militia and is nearly crushed,
With a thousand desertions. Another Kodak moment to be hushed.
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Grand Canyon

Touching the gray stone
Formed beneath an inland sea
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I’m very pleased to introduce to you
A teacher who is and isn’t new.
Though new to some of you today
Last year he joined our work and play.
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“There are too many squirrels! ” my wife exclaimed. “They've taken over. They not only eat all the birdseed I put out, they eat the bird feeders themselves. They’re gnawing their way into the birdhouses too. Do you think they’ll start in on the house? ”

I looked through the kitchen window above the sink. She was right. On the lawn before my eyes, more than a dozen squirrels gamboled on the sun-dappled grass, dug relentlessly in an area I was trying to reseed that spring, chased each other through the branches, and swung acrobatically from the feeders they were plundering. Goldfinches, titmice, sparrows, chickadees and a few warblers perched uncertainly in the branches above. Only the mourning doves, whose gentle tones and appearance belie an unexpectedly resolute nature, seemed willing to challenge the squirrels in the search for food.
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Our driveway has become
A killing field for worms,
And we don’t know what to do.
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Evil Child is clearly learning
With her body slowly turning.
My new teaching methods
Have gained her full attention.
Dangling all day from a rope,
Bereft of help or hope,
Shows what may befall a lass
Difficult in class.
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The pickup sits waiting in the drive.
The well-kept house next door is silent.
The husband has come back to collect
A few of his favorite things before
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Robert Frost once observed in a moment of pet,
That tennis is foolish when played without net.
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For years an orange shimmer
rippling the dark tank water
with our red slider turtle
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The coyote was annoyed the van was late.
A dusty cloud, though, signaled its approach,
And soon Ramon was there and beckoning
Those inside. Nine shapes in all climbed out.
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Boe the Cat was not an easy cat to like
But then he did not like others either.
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All has not been corrected,
But like Scrooge ressurrected
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