by Mla Tuva, 2004

I go out early when the grass is wet,
The sun is up but the sun has not set.
My koi are hungry — they do not care
That I have not yet combed my hair.

Gerald swims over, the first to greet,
He is always the first and the last to eat.
The others will follow, in time, in time —
And that is the end of my little rhyme.

by Mla Tuva, 2003

The leaves are down, the pond is still,
The air is cold but the air is not chill.
I drain the pump. I cover the skimmer.
The days are shorter. The sky is dimmer.

Inside, the kitchen smells like something slow.
I think it is chili. I hope it is chili.
Brenda is reading. The radio is low.
This is, I think, a fine way to be.

by Mla Tuva, 2004

O two-stroke engine, hear my plea:
There are forty hours in a week
When you could operate with dignity.
Seven-thirty Saturday is not one of them.

A rake does not require gasoline.
A rake does not wake my daughter.
A rake is a fine and quiet thing.
Consider, neighbor, the rake.