[01/04/11]

Through cloudy portholes
three miles high, a whisper:
What life lies beneath
the rolling folds of nimbus?

I glimpse a city
by the sea; spark'ling waters
yield to whittled steel,
each light a shining beacon
of prosperity.

Night comes; I glimpse another
rather like the first
but larger; Buxom and brash,
she roils in sequin'd
highways, clad in gold,
the spill from streetlamps clamors
for a taste. And yet
some highways shuttle slowly,
shifting shadows 'neath
the lamplight's golden fountains.

Hungry, ties and suits
meander down this city's
streets; her highways full,
bored by now by their being.
On and off they go;
exit ramps are silly straws
siphoning slowly homeward.

a turkey vulture
wings buffeted by strong winds
hangs stationary

So if your strife strikes
at your sleep remember that
Spring swaps snow for leaves

-Mumford and Sons, "Winter Winds"

Loading lane pigeons
Wings percussive on impact
Full 180 swing

Half-soft bananas
Some fruits just don't travel well
Cabin pressure browns

Soft at first, then wet
My body heat melts nature's
Cold wintry kisses

On black midnight roads
Snow eddies flow meringue-like
Whisk to smooth stiff peaks

The ground is frozen
Grass blades sharp as damask steel
Cats tread carefully

Sleepy eaters packed
Unceremoniously
Trudging slowly home

For some, Thanksgiving
Is all about family;
I come for the pie.

One by one they hum
The bagpipe drone of autumn
Leaf blowers cometh

Tightly wrapped, she sways
Hips moving this way and that
Don't look at her butt

The season changes
Wet fall leaves slip underfoot
The trees are barren

Fog clouds my senses
Simple math equations are
Unexpected deer
Homeworking sleepless is like
Driving with one headlight out

Rusk and russet trees
Aflame with autumn glory
Crackle in the wind

Dear Massachusetts:
Decide what season it is.
Thanks. Sincerely, Me

Swathes of warm sunshine
Glaze the far-off mountaintops
I am home at last

Shades of apple blush
Color coordinated
Grace my long drive home

Arching white vellum
dimples in the autumn rain
Now wet, shall we dance?

Box cutter and pen
Chipboard and clear mind
The long night begins

With ruler in hand,
Site leaps from waiting paper
To fill the white void

Arching white vellum
Narrated by quick short strokes
Tamed slightly, lightly,
The tip-of-tongue recorded
Voluptuously

Caress each angle
Your work becomes your lover
Alone in the night