Witness

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“Come and see !” Gail grinned,

pulling me away from weeding

through blue and yellow heat

along a grassy track into the woods

Until we saw him: Beak wide open,

one wing draped down ,

A young red tail hawk, in dappled light.

“He’s learning to fly” I whispered,

She left behind a small tin of water.

"55" Sunday framed (may 21)

It may not be the final version yet- but working copy enough to share at least.

Sunday sermon comes on low
murmurs of the kitchen radio
cabled deep from a world war
twining coffee steam head to heart,
drifting westward to a dim green counter
chrome edge pointing to an open window
and a porch shading morning's
bright promise a red roan horse
walking way beyond triple strands of wire.

Recent Afternoon 55's

Green hill of friends yard
brushing face of cement steps

boys loop bikes in street
I hose and stir quick cement

below cars come and go
young man grinds a panel

trowel drags a dry twang
old maple stretches over all

remote control cars pop wheelies
old three bay garage gapes
tools gather with dinner scents