Clopping of horses'
hooves on the
cobblestone street
gets the dogs
barking
Husky male voices
in the evening
street—I don't
know what they're
saying
It's nice just to
watch
these leaves, blown
and glowing green
in the late spring
breeze
*
A dry pine cone
drops
with a cracking
sound against
a fallen brother
A rooster crowing
in the dark—we're
both awake
before we should be
A red-eyed fly lands
on my pants and
stares at me,
then sputters away
*
Mushroom hunting, we
hide in the trees
from the wind—
flickering shadows
Afternoon squalling
of a cock across the
street—
what's bothering
him?
Ant and ladybug
busy themselves on
the leaves
of a late spring
peach
*
So many voices—
I emerge from sleep
at dawn
and listen to birds
A bell shudders with
the clopping of
horses' hooves—
creaking wooden cart
Bird sits twittering
on a wire while
winds bellow
behind him at dawn
*
Lying on a rug
in the cool shade of
the house,
not wanting to move
Up the mountain road
a bent white-haired
woman walks
at a right angle
.
Early summer heat—
every day the
mountain's
snow patch seems
smaller
Sudden cool shadow
as I lay reading the
word
"Coolness"
in a book
Unbelievable—
caging this
beautiful bird
for our amusement
*
Fitness club
entrance—
a drowsy slouching
woman
lights a cigarette
Little puff of cloud
hanging in a blue
noon sky—
a man's yelling face
Cool summer morning—
the cat gazes at me,
then goes
back to eating grass
*
Like an insistent
old friend visiting
again—
this morning's boner
A bird flees the
blast
of a siren's scream
somewhere—
cat yawns and
stretches
A sudden wind like
the pouring of a
bucket—
the rippling grasses
*
Little gnat
struggling
in a pool in a beer
glass—
my penknife saves it
His ironic nose—
when he's sincere it
betrays
something cynical
The cat hides her
face
while sleeping the
sunlight—
breath rises and
falls
*
Domed sky with
splotches
of twilit clouds—all
my life
I've been a fool
Broken moods of
three
different wines at
dinner—
half-empty bottles
Summer afternoon—
she enters the dark
house, sky
blazing behind her
*
Vast tiger head
presiding in a cloud
bank—
look back and it’s
gone
Lonely little face
in a knot in the
floorboard—
too sad to believe
Brilliant green
leaves
rippling in a
pouring breeze—
sleepy chirping bird
*
A yellow spider
crawling up my brown
pant leg—
does he think it’s
earth?
Walking west at
dawn,
our long shadows
precede us—
bird cries like a
child
.
Crack in the Ceiling
Poetry by Thomas Radwick
