Cranky Pants

Today I have my cranky pants on
pulled up high
so that I ooze irritability
out the seams.
I’m cranky about my bumpy bus commute
that reeks of stale beer, cranky about unpaid overtime,
cranky about the cell phone dropped in water,
and the headband that pinches.
Cranky without a caffeine and sugar fix,
cranky because I am so behind on piles of paperwork
bills, dental appointments, and car repairs.
Cranky because I’ve gained fifteen pounds
and can’t even fit into
my cranky pants.

The Dance

The dance of drawing inward
and extending outward
I never get it right-
I think to myself this morning
with the fall nipping at my heels.
The leaves are starting to change

colors and float to the ground
just like they are supposed to
but I wonder
if they are a little sad
about their inevitable transformation,
if it is difficult to change

deep inside; to know it is time
to let down their fiery garb, and then-
to let it down.
I imagine that most of these tall towers
retreat into their hard insides,
wrap layers of pine, maple, red alder

around their green hearts,
and bunker down for the cold months to come
but maybe a few- the courageous, the foolish-
open their naked bodies wide, extend
their branches to all the fierce elements
and sway with the wind.