8/2/11

In the city,
only buildings are beautiful.
Anemic trees host squirrels
who seem more like rats than do
their bushy country cousins.
City sparrows look best bathing in a
man-made fountain, hopping
daintily from one concrete block
to another.

Maybe that's why I like the city at night:
dark obscures the trash of the streets;
white, golden domes of civic centers shine pure;
the squirrels have retired into the trees;
sparrows have hopped to shelters under eaves;
and only people, their lights, their batteries, their phones
show,
instead of natural reminders of destruction.
And in this dark, it's easy to look away from sights
that don't fit my versions of beauty.

Not Sure When I Wrote These

Cormorant perched on
twisted metal preens its black
feathers in the sun.

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Morning fog obscures
outlines of trees until sun’s
bright light penetrates.

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Blue waters rise and
fall with white foam as cranes fly
across graying skies.


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The sound of blue waves,
the sight of free cranes in the
sky – these soothe my heart.