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Tag Archives: gray
first day of december
1 The Brownian motion of a mass of childrenyou might mistake for random dancingcold beside a line of still buses waiting on the first day of December. 2 A woman counting out loud to a known numberI do not know … Continue reading
days of rain and now
days of rain and now a flood of morning light bike shop sign says free air, leading me to believe there could be a price to pay for sun dancing on pools where yesterday lingers in a season still gray … Continue reading
a murder of old friends
From this side, dry, withoutbenefit of steady rain,it is hard to know if two crows flyingfrom one gabled roofto another are more or less thana murder of old friendsundaunted by gray skies and mid-April’s touchof winter not yetwilling to let … Continue reading
into the gray city
Two days after the blizzard, plowsmake a mountain to move every placetwo paths meet, and there are people onthe street with shovels ready to deal. Sunlight falls steadily, and waitinghas been accumulatingfor a week. Snow relaxes under a blanket of … Continue reading
slow
Snow has lost its waythis morning, wanders.Still, the ground iscovered with it. Sun boring a hole in graysky is light, not heat. So snowstays, makes going slowfor the time being.
concrete beach
Two old gulls, dark eyes set deep in gray,indignant at a human presenceon their beach, watch until I am so closeI cannot be denied, then curse and fly off into the lake where they know Icannot follow. It’s hardly a … Continue reading
birds of a feather
A gaggle of gulls settleson a grassy expansewith six Canada Geese,a dozen pigeons, more sparrowsthan I can count at a glance, threerodents that may or may not besquirrels, and an old womanwith a bag of stale breadan hour before sunrise,when … Continue reading
no disciple
After days of gray, sunso sweet tomatoes swoon, lilacs and some guysmoking ganja on the street have methinking again about this whole ideaof no disciple at second hand. Floating over seventy thousand fathomsis a contact high, like a bird who … Continue reading
perching
As we take, in fact, a general view of the wonderful streamof our consciousness, what strikes us first is this differentpace of its parts. Like a bird’s life, it seems to be madeof an alternation of flights and perchings. William James, … Continue reading
tuesday morning, painting the moon
flat white bristlebrush, white fullcircle a single strokeon a field twoshades bluerthan zinc,green arcs on either sideof gray betweenrainbows parked in linesthat wouldconverge if they could find the horizon.dazzled by sun you could miss thisslow reflection that ismore than a … Continue reading