can't smell the roses
but the kids' grubby paws when -
so sneaky - no soap

Market maze -
packed aisles and carts.
Like ants, we carry food,
touch antennae.

soggy field at sunbreak
grasses clutch soaked legs
birds in chiming chorus

a skinny cat drifts down
the bright hot sidewalk -
leaves flutter tenderly

Sundial, Malcolm X school:


Old wounds call out
from hardened feet.
Taste hot, sweet tea -
walk in weightless shoes.

dryer door pops open
out flies one soft shoe
tap-dancing laundromat

little bird
wee nest
half a beer
tenderness
three apples in a bowl

full moon seagull
far from sea
sails to a pole
at the corner store
gazes upon
the human thunder
the grumbling engines
- buses, cars, delivery trucks -
chats up the pigeons
across the way
remembers aloud
last night’s bay waters
a white moon
presented on a black plate

five cookies
and a glass of wine for supper
she said we all get old

there’s a man standing
at the corner store
so still he must be
traveling at the speed of light
and time has stopped -
traffic passes him by
when the light is green -
store business
carries on around him
soda, chips and beer,
cigarettes
the sidewalk holds steady
beneath his feet

a spider is weaving
just across the street
a bright circle on a field
light sparks off drops of dew
four gems on a diadem

a man is standing
at the corner store

spider falls forward,
binds bright threads of web -
reeds rustle,
something hidden

leaves sigh before they fall
spiders are weaving
taste the last ripe berries