August 31, 2015
Colors undulated in water’s reflection
Each vessel thrown motion on waves.
Daylight slipped between fast shadows
Astir with dust, sunscreen, and wake.
Reading and discussion as people laze,
Land mammals splashed with excitement.
Allowing the arched path of hot sun play,
Keeping covered eyes from its vibrance.
Etched in sand were castles and hills,
So many fantasies that were imagined.
On the surface a light breeze gave chills.
Under vast clear indigo sky’s advantage.
Those gathered took their weekend time;
Hurried for nothing, just this life alive.
August 24, 2015
If the sky
is falling above you,
August 19, 2015
On such a late night sitting and full,
Contents of a stir-fry made of tofu;
She packs for Wisconsin: days away.
Still I sit & watch and wait & laze.
August 13, 2015
and I slip into the deluge of everyday life
to pull myself out where I so choose.
August 10, 2015
The sound of white fan blades, nimble cat’s feet,
and heavy outside traffic
woke with the beeping alarm.
Monday life was on its way,
just before breakfast, shower and shave.
Pieces of inspiration fell off in stretches
and movements onto the wooden floor.
As a backdoor opened to musty wet rugs
and well watered plants,
at a place where occupants had been days away.
Coming to again as rebirth:
a second, a minute, a day, a week, a moment chance;
where we’d thought we’d be now is the past.
We were housed by such movements
of certain contraptions, waking, stirring, just as—
sounds and actions unplanned,
came over and overlapped.
August 4, 2015
Abandoned train bridges make for the best retreats,
Under empty blue skies which remain always there.
Cotton wood branches waved leaves as a busy fleet,
Fading summer months made all those about aware.
August 3, 2015
In varied ways
The city’s buildings stand;
Tall as they are, up with birds
Holding those lives
Seething, going, and watching
Mazes put up for institutions,
Humans go about with same minds.
July 30, 2015
Bridge, cut from sandstone
standing hard in the distance,
below thick electrical wires
& quick ascending planes,
where guts of our city’s downtown,
with its sharp-edged contrast
at one end, lie exposed,
under smoking black chimneys
four as die, & pink light skies
falling slowly to a cool dusk
in shadows of pillars, of rocks,
of trees, & of bridges north,
where people had ran, walked,
& captured photos, talking,
had so frequently happened.
The deep vein of a country
swept brown & debris below,
where near a dam you await.
Your heavy arch did not bend,
your dusty blocks did not crumble,
your purpose outlived its creator,
& still you met the citizens first,
on each side to let them pass.
Without question birds flew to you,
clouds dotted heavens & your flank,
& sounds bounced off of your make
from other ancient past-lives.
The Stone Arch stood fixed,
even in the pitchest darkness,
or when the layered homeless sat,
in faded orange lamplight glow,
or the late street walker came
on a hot summer evening drunk.
Up late to watch the metro night,
to make sure people made it back
over a fast Mississippi, so wide.