“Labor Day”

c. 2020 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(9-20)

My morning started with No-Bake Cookies. And coffee.

It was a lost tradition from olden days. When we visited my parents at their country home, decades ago, mom would usually have a coffee can of homemade treats waiting. Each layer inside separated by sheets of wax paper. My sleep cycle would end too soon, with everyone else still snoring away. So I would sneak to the kitchen, brew a pot of coffee, and open the stash of sweets.

The blobs of cocoa, oats, and peanut butter were my favorite.

That memory filled my head as the morning began, around half past three o’clock. I stumbled out of bed, started my BUNN and walked the pooch. The air breathed a sigh of regret. September had arrived and with it, inevitability. A seasonal progression, decreed by the cosmos.

I sat on the porch through two cups of coffee. But by number three, duty had turned my feet toward the back office. My computer was calling:

Labor Day

Last garden-hose spray

Last party on the lawn

Summer moving on

Pre-election pangs

Pots and pan bangs

Grill on the porch

Dog at the door

This year has been a chore

But never a bore

What awaits

Demons at the gate

But for the moment

I’ll drink some hard spirits

And cold beer from the fridge

Tell me where it is

Skip, skip, skip to my Lou

I put a spell on you

Breeze blowing the wind chimes

On the porch, passing time

After four o’clock

Slumber, sleepy ‘round the block

But I’m awake on the bench

With ebay parts and a monkey wrench

Nothing fixed

My repair is nixed

Makes me want to split

The breeze calms my mood

Wind chimes sound fine

Take off my shoes

No boo hoo

Drink some Yoo Hoo

‘Whatcha gonna do?’

I’ve got a secret for you

Tell me true

It’s been told

By cranky cousins and old souls

The best part of a day

Is when worries flee and cares run away

That’s what they say

So it’s my plan

To sit outside for a moontan

Let the night run free

That’s the best path I see

Just me and my doggie

And the croak of a froggy

Crickets fill up my ears

As the season disappears

It’s been a good ride

But what lives must die

Wheel in the sky

Winter wonder

Will put us under

It’s a matter of time

Like the rhythm and rhyme

Of a troubadour pip

Skip, skip

Loose lips sink the ships

Better feel lucky, son

When you hear a bit of old wisdom

Like I do at this moment

Alone and glad to sit

I did my bit

Now there’s wind in my hair

And me in my wooden chair

Clock strikes five

What is this jive?

Senses come alive

Get in the door

Canine friend on the floor

He wants a treat

Then I’m at the desk, throwing heat

Power up the screen

Tap, tap, tap

Fist pump and a hand clap

Like old-school Rap

Wordsmith

Chasing hits

Megabits

Slots and slits

Whether I foul or strike

Doesn’t matter under cover of night

My delight

Is in the chase

My run to daylight

This is the race

Before the golden crest of day

Before the night time goes away

I’ve got words for this empty page

Say hey!

Let me stray

Off the beaten path

Off the cartographer’s thinking cap

Clutch the princess prize

Look into my eyes

I’ll say it only once

I’m no dunce

Taco Bell

Would be swell

But here I sit before the dawn

Rambling on

Coffee cup, a chamber cold

Now I’m feeling old

Let me clear my throat

You can have my goat

Tesla, Trotsky, Turner, Tennant

I’m in love with Joanie Bennett

Don’t let me forget

Got an alarm to set

Before the day gets wet

Forecast not yet past

On this holiday

Weather wonders come to play

Chance of rain and thunder, raw

Over steaks and homemade coleslaw

That’s the flaw

I’ll sit where the clouds can’t spit

Where burgers flip

Eating chips

Pondering

A telephone ring

My friend calling

Brring brring brring

From her bungalow on the lake

It’s no mistake

She wouldn’t wait

Crazy girl

From another world

She’ll be here in a minute

I’ll barely have the time to sit

So I open the notes app

Phone in my lap

Scribble screen caps

Tap, tap, tap

Wordreaper on the hunt

My work here

Is almost

Done

Half past five in the morning. My two cookies went quickly. But I knew not to push the limit. More than that would cause a sugar high, with the following crash bringing me down, rudely. Self-discipline would keep me feeling right. Something I hadn’t learned in past days.

Even before I finished my poem, thunder had begun to shake up the morning. Labor Day promised to be unpredictable. Like the year so far, and what was left in the balance. I savored the last swig of grounds. A tease of wind toyed with the kitchen curtains. Mother Nature was about to let loose her wrath.

I hit control + save on the keyboard. It was time to go back to my porch.

Comments about ‘Words on the Loose’ may be sent to: icewritesforyou@gmail.com

Write us at: P. O. Box 365 Chardon, OH 44024