IMPROVISATION#99
WORDS

Words scurry to hide
my warm body
in a tableaux of poetry
from coifs of images
here in the sun
wearing a red scarf
nearby river bed birds
hearing sparrows
from snowy Elm trees
this last day in January
with sorry sightings
intact in a safe space
giving my out my language
of verse by a lorry
from shadows of duck boats
out to a narrow gallery
from the Boston Common park
covers the windy faces
in which by first light
my Russian translator
Dimitri as an orator
by history's landmarks
over the meadow
sight reads to the audience
of poetry lovers.