Stoplight thought

Children are like clouds
passing over irrelevant Earth
indifferent as a fog;
but we stop at lights
and worry about being
fifteen minutes late
or unintended offense.

September 2019

Let it be real

When noon is dark on dark
and even dawn betrays us
holding back its sacred light;
when hope is cheap & cloying,
cheap perfume on carcasses—
don’t cheapen it pretending
it isn’t what it is: let it be real.
Sometimes life is like that.
Only acknowledge: some
times it won’t be like that, too.

September 2019

Summer at the Davidson Pool

It was a summer you could see
in the shimmer of air all around
and sparkling in the pool; glowing
on skin and filling a glass of wine—
yet in the afternoon, drying off my
freckled shoulders in a muggy dusk,
I feel a chill in the wind at times
and grin widely at the idea of fall.

September 2019

Lily at Union Station

Your large eyes pierce me
with their innocent curiosity
all in unexpected ways—
I did not realize how I’d
fall in love, breathlessly
: father doting shamelessly
on this little woman, this
separate adult in her childhood,
thinking an old man’s thoughts
about your future, even now
standing on Union Station steps
watching homeless tragedies
and knowing I’ll hoist you
upon my shoulders, through
all the years to come, even
when I cannot do it any more.

September 2019

Moving

There is always a reason
to keep moving; I learn
from Oliver, who sits
quite still in pretend cars
doing nothing, just there—
for minutes, but it seems
usually he could for hours.
Or perhaps he learned it
from me, from my way
of sitting alone on the porch
with my thoughts, and the air,
just patient and empty,
maybe hiding from the things
that need doing—there
is always a reason to keep moving
—but there is an equal reason
to sit still.

September 2019