IMPROVISATION#254

ON COUNTRY ROADS

On country roads

there are shadows

of black ice

under the snow drifts

closing my windows

hearing the radio play

David Bowie

by the narrow streets

near the glittering Charles

with shadows that glitter

in the sun of diamond waves
passing over the islands
watching Cape Cod birds
over a high flying bridge

as we pass the vacant woods

near the riverbank

in a winter labyrinth

of a carpet of Evergreen

a poet visits a friend

originally from Lisbon

in an old neighborhood

outcast by a fishing village.