If the barrel rolls
and goes unmissed until spring
was it ever lost?
☯
In wisteria,
the remains of a feline
she dies when we die
☯
Hot sauce on pizza
the man’s wife died this morning,
chatter in Russian
☯
The lost magician,
our supervisor runs out
to give directions.
☯
I had not wanted
to give up on this ball-point,
almost New Year’s.
☯
Black dog on a leash
the lady with half a face
tinkles the piano.
☯
Plans for the New Year:
music again, in the street,
and maybe a choir.
☯
Car tires on gravel
or, the drizzle, come again
which one sounds thicker?
☯
Electric snowflakes
blinking on the crane, but fog
beckons the New Year.
☯
My resolutions?
watching white lights in the fog
that’s all I can do.
☯
The sound of the wind
strong and then away so swift
the sidewalk holds fast.
☯
I must ask of you
where can anybody go
that I can’t hear them?
☯
Morning reminds me
I cannot acknowledge death
above a whisper
☯
On the half-hour bus
old man with a hearing aid
teaching her street names.
☯
In a church doorway
piss-stained, he pulls up his pants
refusing my food.
☯
Single cough from the
sidewalk, but thick enough to
cover the whole street.
☯
Optimistic smile
as he casts all his loose change
to the shelter roof.
☯
Six pigeons, one streetlamp
how many disputed fares
happen below?
☯
