A train scrapes its rails—
No! A distant siren wails…
Then pre-dawn birdsong
Strong, unblinking sun
and trees full of hummingbirds—
Spring comes when it comes
A catwhisker moon
gleaming in the morning dusk—
crack in the ceiling
*
Curtain of blue sky,
swirling silvery note-bursts—
black bird on a wire
I’ve got sunglasses,
an open book on my lap,
and arms sleek with sweat
Airplanes like fireflies
in the slow-moving night sky—
sleep creeps up on me
*
Sharing the blue sky,
coasting gull and pale half moon—
twins for an instant
Our pains different
from one another’s—it seems
we are both lucky!
Dried food on my thumb,
I flip poetry pages
and feel embarrassed
*
Hearing it blowing,
watching wind through the window
waving all the trees
Seeing the sun set
through a window, thinking of
beachside wine with friends
Universe pouring
in between slats of the blinds—
I am part of this
*
Through the train window
I watch lush green hills while she
stacks her dirty bags
Like a burnt finger
on the greasy grey pavement—
tossed cigarette butt
The houses on fire
with fierce flashes of red light—
neighborhood police
*
A curtain of clouds
sliding over the city—
Spring birds keep singing
She would rather run
on a sidewalk with stop signs
than an ocean path
Pigeon on a ledge
of a peeling old beach house,
ducking in the wind
.
