Indoor Cats
Wearing nature’s costume
a subterfuge, a camoflauge,
striped for sleeping, stretching,
bowing before food bowls
and window-gazing.
Let There Be
In the throes of Winter
I long for longing
and the eaves of light
that cast themselves upon a Miami courtyard:
it’s always the light we remember,
right?
The light
easy on the dew-fields
of softball mornings
The light
burnt on dusty diamonds
blinking off sweat
The light
dying as we play tag
-not it!
Rosey Glasses
Oh but for the slight sail of wind
on an Oxford summer eve
or the bulbous part of the day
fat in the print of novel
the top worry-down
the days caressed, blessed by
carols, courts and churches
building body, mind and soul.
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