Cool temps, late August rains,
invade the garden--the Begonias
snap to--the Impatiens brighten,
smile and flirt.

Like the surf,
every day pushes,
every day pulls.
The trick is to
stay atop the
boardwalk with
a funny hat.

The white picket fence is almost dark.
The chain link one is almost sinister.
Even the lowly sparrow flies.
But he doesn't know the joys of the climb.

Crane

Construction crane like a giant stork--
steel beam in its mouth like a fish--
the men looking like cane stubble,
the street festooned with street hooks,
chokers and, as if bordering a pond,
a blue fence of do not post.

Night, with blazing eyes,
performs eternal ripples
and hints of richness far
beyond what my eye can see.

Dandelions

Little towheads,
so insouciant,
so dancing on the green.

The glossy pictures-- 5,10, even 20 years old--
(one wanted to an astronaut, one a model, one
a rock star(two went to college),the 8 glasses of
water a day diet (never followed), the recipe
for orange-coconut sponge cake (tried:horrible),
the magnets spelling L-O-V-E: all sturdy door
items in a kitchen filled with motes of sunny
afternoon dust.

Looking In The Mirror

Soothed by
prolegomena,
I listen, hear
the heartbeats,
feel your pain.
Your speech is
short: you just
say:"I love you"
and you do, you
really do.

For Sarah On Her 12th Birthday

Hiding behind the chopped meat
the ice cream must be lonely.
The ice machine gurgles in
agreement. Open Sesame!

The sun is magic,
a magic morning magic.
The sun is space,
a magic morning space.
The sun is love,
a magic morning love.
Except today it's cloudy.

Naifs

Up the hill,
down the hill--
with nets up--
we chase the
butterfly dream.

Part of the wafer goes to me--
part goes to her--they both taste
the same --but I was hoping for
sugar--Cookie--and a full glass of wine.

Skull smasher, lay it down,
that iron fist, the one saying,
"that's the way it is",the one
only wolves will answer- in the
(your) wilderness.

Gaudy, earthy, chesty the Begonias.
are like antiques, are like beribboned
soldiers, are like dear little old ladies.
Rich ones.

Bob

The hard tin of
the unopened cans,
the words that tumble
like rocks--as if I
was a rubber bullet
that bounced and
bounced. My friend
is ill--the friend I
shop for--and I don't
know how to say love
though I know it's
not something I can buy.

Tattered heart and
submarines
north,south,and out
to sea
dive down to the
bottom
yet often rise for air.

U.S. Army dress green,
the Sweet Peas undulate
over flowers in our Times
Square garden.
Just a tad south, the Army
recruiting center is newly
boarded up. It was a landmark
opened, I think, around the
First World War.
In a few months we will pull
the Sweets Peas...too.

Writing a Poem

My mind tells me it's easy
just be cute, it says, just
whisper--say something
like "in the morning the
clouds borrow gold."But
forget the collecting interest
part. That's too human.

Chess Chatter
When he was losing the Greek would say,
"Please I am from small village" and I
would answer," with goats--plenty of goats--
just like the Bronx."

A hot,hard, double-clutching truckdriver,
August starts, tries-maybe tomorrow it
will say something-about the godly sea,
the cool breezy sea.