Our son gifted us Roku
& his Netflix password.
Now Connie & I binge
every night from 7 until 2 a.m.,
watching murder mysteries
that disturb our dreams.
Two scenes keep appearing
in these films: the shower sex scene
& the bird’s-eye view
of a vast forest, sometimes threaded
by a road the protagonist drives
to the shocking climax.
The ubiquitous shower scene,
we get, simple titillation, everything
all slippery & wet. But the
forest scene?  Connie believes
the cinematographer’s just
showing off.  Look, Ma, I’m
a bird!  No, the forest,
the view from above, I believe
they symbolize something more
than artistic vanity, something
that repudiates the killing fields,
a lost & leafy innocence, not knowing
where we’re going but aching
for where we may have been.

Image credit:We-Vibe Toys

I've lived in Tucson since 1953 and retired in 2008 from teaching writing at Pima Community College.

My poems have appeared in journals like Carolina Quarterly, Barrow Street, RATTLE, and New Poets of the American West. 

I'm a passionate supporter of Sky Island Alliance, a regionally-based environmental organization.

Birkenstock Blues, my eleventh poetry collection, was published in 2019 by Presa Press (Rockford, MI).