CONFLUENCE—

You can't really 
blame

the poor 
careless pair—

of slick 
perfect silverbacked 

drakes over there—

that came floating
fair as ever

toward the muddy 
crew at this—

too swell! 
little manmade

and overly-
enthusiastic pond—

POWER TRIP

Lookout!—little 
silverbrown 
roly-poly bug zigzagging—

zealously 
through 
themeparks

of rain-
scattered 
woodchips!

Here comes—perhaps 
first 
a lousy partial

then a 
total kind
of sidewalk eclipse—

if not 
worse—a complete-
ly incidental  

though still 
pretty 
unstoppable—apocalypse!

EASY DOES IT

On one of those 
mornings—in May
when it's 

sunny and simultaneous-
ly raining—and I'm feeling, 

as I shuffle distracted and
alone through soft puddles 
of blossoms,

all at once—tired,
hopeful, slack,
smart and at least a little hungry;

I just cannot think

of any good words
that are light-
to-the-touch enough

to send 
to a breeze-gentle and faraway girl.

But then
what? is any of that—here 
before me

to this unself-
consciously mudglazed and
gadabout robin

plucking and gobbling
proudly—a wet 
gristly earthworm

before turning,
excreting quick and then darting-

off
in any old good looking woodsy direction!

THIS POEM IS THE SNOOZE BUTTON

The now

and then sort-of 

subtle sound—of a few spring

morning 

rain drops pinging

off a maybe 

not so

distant bedroom window—

marks the time 

past which a body 

really ought

to be thinking 

of rising-

up, and so gently nags 

employment! 

of the rest

of its 

prone and still-

dormant senses;

which should 

by now 

be just as 

busy—say,

smelling lilacs, tasting coffee—

RECAP

Once and maybe

soon again—the rolling overgrown 

acres 

of used car lots 

lay flat—the quiet

province 

of the robins.

NOT SO FAST

Like clockwork—a warm front
winding
easy through the bleary 

city 
streets and—every beating heart 
just stopping;

perchance 
to listen—
to the drooping drone of true spring

or to smell
the cottony vague white stink of its

trees—or to realize that
puffy breeze 
of popcorn or something 

has been wafting—ever nearer
to slow no

motion—on long filaments of Blossom 
Dearie air.

COMMON OR GARDEN

Ubiquitous 
as they are 

eyecatching—
and planted 

anonymously all 
along the dim woodfall—

another strong 
yield 

of such vivid 
and perennially

red-
colored plastic Solo cups—