87
TheFlyer 
Majestically the flyer goes
into the atmosphere.
He elevates his eyes and nose
and softly sunlit ears.

The other riders on the plane
face frontward as they soar.
Transplants transcend tele-terrain,
transmigrate door to door.

And so he too, the little man,
sits soundless in his seat,
aboard the plane sans plaint or plan,
upon four furry feet.
86
(antha)2 
Cherry colored strands enhance
and frame two widened ice-gray eyes
that, alarmed, twinkle like the stars that tip two glossy-taloned hands
which hold your purple latte mug while some old coughing lady dies.

We're sitting in the coffee shop
trying to work near my last day
to make the most of fading moments 'til we suddenly eavesdrop
two scraggly friends of sickly granny draw her as she fades away.

Hack-hack-hacking noises from
across the table just behind you
echo evidence her syrup bottle fails to overcome
whichever dire contagion this wizened woman will expire to.

You look at me,
and I look back.
You try to hold your breath.

And still she's there, nursing her tea.
She fills our air with germ debris,
and jokes with friends through sips of yak
who watch her bend from barks that wrack
her failing frame, unfazed by meth.

...

We dash before we catch her death.
85
JoshuaTree1
JoshuaTree2 
Quick trip to Joshua Tree.
All expenses paid for me.
In the desert, by the pool.
Kinda weird, yeah? Kinda cool.
Flee from winter to the heat.
Toast my face and dunk my feet.
Icy plunge then hot tub soak.
Drinking flavored diet coke.
Get some prickles in my socks.
Drive a bit to hike on rocks.
Textures twist to twirling eyes.
Roiling rainbows hypnotize.
Trek to Palm Springs in the car.
Candied shrimp and tiki bar.
Get up late the final day.
Breakfast, hugs, then on my way.
84
Meditations 
Poems are just practicing
to give my thoughts a rhythmic ring,
to measure and triangulate
the right words to communicate
my dreams, desires, desperations
by transcriptive calculations
into textured explorations
of each moment's fascinations.

I like to go wandering.
It clears my mind for pondering.
Or should I say perambulate
to help me shift my mental state
to open wide to new fixations
like these rhyming meditations
on my routine observations
of my neighborhood's vibrations.
83
ChristmasLights 
Bright colored lights, strung joyously, shine
and cast their glow into the calm of the star-filled night
as a chill wind nips your nose and mine,
the expression of this budding winter's coming frozen bite.
This street I've often walked before
whose neighbors never miss a chance to share the season's cheer
has dressed itself in strands of Santa's festival decor
and calls to every one of us, "Happy Holidays and New Year".
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These poems are Avi's diary. You can email him at avi@invariablyhappy.com