March,
forgiven sins at last…
a roast beef sandwich
☯
At my death…
will even the wasted time
comfort me?
☯
He speaks to me
in the dreams I don’t have
until summer
☯
The Air Force man
holds a sapling, two feet
from the root ball
☯
Thick thud,
the cooper’s mallet–
so much sleet!
☯
March…
big fish in small bowl
eyes the thunderstorm
☯
Where do you call home?
queries bluebird
from her upraised branch
☯
March…
drums like a dropped tire iron–
gravel crunch
☯
Late March…
thunderclaps, quite like
a shoving match
☯
Late March…
drowsy train driver thinks
in long words
☯
Late March:
wind on my shaved neck…
stalled bus
☯
March…
The harlequin eludes me
south past the bank
☯
The madwoman…
will she cross the street?
(She gets on my bus)
☯
She won’t be vaccinated…
all I can do
is watch the birds
☯
The sultan in his palace
if he strains a bit
hears the cricket
☯
March…
the raven strains its neck
for half an apple
☯
March…
effervescence of the dew
and a jackhammer
☯
Angel whispers…
the night breeze,
sweeping up leaves
☯
March…
cargo barge off downtown
dwarfs the ferry
☯
And one day,
masks stacked cupboard…
thick dust
