a few nights ago
sister autumn snapped her fingers
and now the trees have shed
their workaday green
for party frocks of fire and gold
All articles filed in poets
thursday
how does one approach the claiming of names,
the brave or foolhardy stake in the game
that says “henceforth i shall be known as a —–“?
sunday afternoon
the sultry summer air hangs low and close
while the cottonwood down lazes toward the grass
the bees are at the milkweed
buzzing into the pale purple blooms
with an industry that makes me sweat just to watch them
june litany
you are not the sun-gilded clouds
or the thunderstorm sailing across the sky
the sudden crack of lightning
or the gentle grumble of thunder.
sometimes
sometimes the words won’t come —
Read Morewhat was here before
they’re framing in rowhouses on the corner lot
where i once paused to watch the sunset over the thick green grass
spirea
at the little grey house on the corner
the spirea has begun to bloom,
delicate white blossoms creeping mistily down its long, slender branches.
april showers
after weeks of dry weather —
or merely a tease of moisture in the form of fog
or snow or sleet or drizzle —
the spring skies have finally broken open
time in the essence
all day yesterday i thought it was tomorrow
because my watch’s day-of-the-month counter
had skipped ahead when i wasn’t looking.
desecrated places
wendell says there are no unsacred places,
only desecrated ones, but i don’t know
what desecration looks like in the wild.