Weather reports

forks of lightning, withdrawn
darts of rain
a huge glory over the water
light shining out of a sun-cave

*

clouds with their bottoms intact, firm, dark
stepping stones to the mountain
where they fray with rain

*

grey day
the sun sets in a gold commotion in the west

adjustment

she tried for years
to straighten him out
nowadays she contents herself
ironing creases into his jeans

bird spit

wetted
by a single bird
high on the wires
with inordinate aim
she felt herself selected

delayed

oh boy
said the old man who had just stubbed his toe on a tree root
this is really going to hurt

90 degree turn

she stands outside the door
pulling on a cigarette
with that left-behind look--

society has moved on

news from the other world, visited nightly

what a night
kitten in the water
the wallet, the blood test, the game abandoned in the middle
an avatar of the children—
from those parts of them that lie unused--
and in the morning, like handles
the words

holding the pose

toppled
by a thought-quake

view from the hotel

swaying towards us
headlights in air
our windows part the stream

hoards of metal
arriving birds
reach for the ground with rubber claws

walking toward the darkness

at 75 she asked herself
while looking at her breasts
aren't you tired of having these?
*
cataract surgery? no thanks
my eyes fading to the details
as they should
*
after the old man died
his wife still gardened for years
"I'll just mess around a little longer
then I'm coming too"

acting as if--
aiming for the door right beside heaven...

inner smiles all day because of what a dream whispered

the beloved departed---
sometimes they’re still available to us in our dreams
for long rides down the interstate, for instance
in a bakery truck...
*
tired of her illness
she stepped into the glass-walled garden
plucked a leaf, and ate the healing herb
*
the children chorused
they wanted me to be their teacher, but
a big man sat down beside me
and muscled me out of my dream

testimony

the hesitant child gained fluency
by not correcting herself

(even the awkward are able to achieve
a level of competence over time)

after the break

Once the devil goes home
and God withdraws His face into the clouds
and you are left with yourself, alone,
whom do you trust?

Not yourself.
Hug tight the bottle, pills rattling as you walk

morning city

A fast morning walk
adds swing to the day

The people are mostly in their houses,
(their cars, their businesses, their schools)
Out here it’s just me and the birds
a few stray gardeners
or old walkers
we greet like friends