Afternoon – Page 59

horror on parade
the fires of war march on while
death wields the baton
–
a murder of crows-
five men lower
their rifles

dark rolling water
a rusty buoy’s hollow bell
tolls across the night
–
split rail fence-
a congregation
of cowbells

a large gray crane stands
fishing the shallow waters
down among the reeds
–
wingbeats-
spending ripples where
once was a fish

lazy curls of steam
glowing in the rays of the
slanting winter sun
–
the north wind-
warming my hands
on a hot cup of tea

becoming August
fevered skin, heat lightning, and
the promise of rain
–
an azure pond-
fish break the surface
amid the evening rain

sitting on the dock
losing patience waiting for
my ship to come in
–
a cold hard rain-
the dog brings
her leash

swallowing my doubts
returning day after day
in case you wake up
–
patchwork sunlight-
I brush the sleep
from your lips

awash in the surf
my toes buried in the stars
strewn across the sky
–
ebb tide-
crushed shells
and hermit crabs

frost on the windows-
heat from the radiator
rustles the curtains
–
warm boots-
glowing embers
adrift in the smoke

sprinting to your door
the rain soaked newspaper held
just over my head
–
staccato whispers-
light rain falling
through the trees