at the little grey house on the corner
the spirea has begun to bloom,
delicate white blossoms creeping mistily down its long, slender branches.
All articles filed in poets
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.
language class
do you like to visit the zoo?
ana from peru asks.
i do, i say, and she ticks the box,
then probes further: what do you like best?
i wonder when i last went to the zoo.
4812
midnight again
once more
return
new green leaves unfurl tentatively from last year’s dry brown canes
Read Moreapril shower
the rain hits the pavement with a steady splash
and shafts of lightning forewarn of thunder’s uneasy rumble
after all
i noticed her face as he told her
“there was nothing we could do” —
saw the brightness fade, watched it crumple —
ghost falls ii
the winds scrapes rough on bleaching bone
and the whitened trunks of weathered trees