Strolling after supper
down porch lined lanes
Mrs. Malone is laughing
her apron discarded for the night
Swings creaking and
teacups in saucers
Mr. Johnson is pulling weeds
from the cracks in the walk
Children fresh from their baths
put fireflies in pickle jars
A gentleman in a wicker chair
waves a transparent hand
The scent of Gardenia
welcomes us home


corner market

running down the hot sidewalk
2 coins jingling in his pocket
anticipation of orange soda
his own bottle, just for him
shaved head reflects the sun
shoes slapping, coins jingling



october noon and all is well
the poplar hides the whippoorwill
the pansies rest their pretty heads
among the scattered flower beds
sumac berries staining clothes
silken petals on the rose
goldenrod lets down her hair
autumn hanging in the air



like a false resolution
you promised the world
kept nothing
and moved on

slithered your way
back to the hot sand
and beaches
the place where
you're always young