Tidal Flow

by Gary Beck

When I walk on the beach
I see the loneliness
of the Florida surfer,
who waits and waits
for the big wave
that never comes.

Can It Be?

by Gary Beck

Dogwood is blooming everywhere.
Daffodils are blooming everywhere.
A scrawny cherry tree
is working like wild
to put out its aroma.
Daffodils are blooming everywhere.
Dogwood is blooming everywhere.

Indifferent Eviction

by Gary Beck

When I was young
I walked unblemished Florida shores
and saw flights of pelicans
50-100 strong,
going about their business
in orderly vees.
Large flocks of sandpipers
scurried along water’s edge
in complete unison,
feeding in rhythmic pecks,
suddenly taking flight
in organized formation
the military would envy.
Few of us notice
the departure of our neighbors
from proximity
to man-made nests,
inhabitants too territorial
to allow coexistence.

Roots That Bind

by Gary Beck

Barely planted deep enough,
the aged sycamore trees
of Bryant Park
shed their leaves,
compelled by winter
to stand bare limbed.
They are not embarrassed
by nudity,
neither hoping nor despairing
for new leaves in Spring.

Dance of the Tree

by Gary Beck

Evolution trained the ballerina tree
to dance when the wind
blew music to its leaves.
The arboreal ballet,
as elegant as Swan Lake,
may not have an audience,
but the performance goes on,
as long as there is wind.

Climate Change

by Gary Beck

Summer days ended,
battered trees lose their green,
supplanted by urban drear
until life blooms again,
surviving suffocating winter.
Bare skin covered
by confining garments,
curious paradox;
leaves fall off,
clothing goes on,
reversed in springtime;
leaves sprout,
clothing's removed,
unless disaster
alters the cycle.

Last Supper

by Gary Beck

The migratory chickadee
tries to eat at the feeder,
but territorial sparrows,
tough town birds,
have no sympathy
for the traveling nomad
and drive him away.