Thursday, March 23, 2017

IN THE TOOL SHED

In the tool shed
to rake for the spring

what leaves
are left

at the unmasked snow cleft
of the White Mountain

by the legible light
moves us up the hill.

THE LAST SPATTER

The last spatter
of snow

scatters on the kick ball
graffiti wall

the passage of my hand
shrugs the foliage

as every leaf
falls to the ground.
RESEMBLANCES

Resemblances
by the trip wire

of dancing feet
glides on the floor

from lacerations
of lost loves

in fugitive
collaborative desires.

ON THE GOLF GREEN

In a horizon
on the golf green

a fawn in the sun
recovers breath

lured from
white branches

of the last
dazzling snow.
SURROUNDED

Surrounded
by low leafed branches

in spring's disclosure
by wind along the Cape

A rescue ship also
picks up the herring

to bring to the mainland
in mid-March.




HIDING AWAY

Hiding away
in the west field

with daylight
in its sun glasses

Squirrels
embedded from a storm

by the  fountain spring
in a wishing well of coins.


RELAXATION

Flipping houses,
playing solitaire

Kick ball
in the teeming light

Day unfolds
its raking leaves

Snow rinses
in Harvard Square

for a chess match
outside the cafe