Still Life with Sunflower, Swift & Damselfly

hip-high
in this, my own
orinoco, it seems
slightly untrue to
describe what depth is;
how could you know my
size or understand ankle-deep
or fourteen hands or a shoulder-
width and a half, drowned in
what is immeasurable sunshine?
behind the building between
two blazing rivers of steel rails
upon which if you sat we would
only see your two worrying dark
bottomless caiman eyes; yet
when I stand up this river is hip-
high and the fat swifts dive
around our heads rising
only to a pause alone momentarily once every while
like a still life with sunflower, swift & damselfly

Yesteryear’s Leaves

(I speak from the cuff)
with all the cuffs rolled up
   on my shirt sleeves, my pants
by the chain link fence
   on that sunny day far from the seventies
     and the nineties as it’s at least one hundred
      degrees with my arms by my side in the seat
        nearly touching the earth supplicating for the
          dry seeds that blow in a hovering breath through the
fence
            by the snapping peapods of scotch broom
             amongst the scent of music and meadow
            sweat and the scrub jays and dragon
          flies are quiet as shadows of
         yesteryear’s leaves (today)



Best Friends

I think we would have been
famous friends as children with

Big wheels, colecovision and showing
the dog the fish in the bucket

Since you had atari

Though she didn’t care, and
nor did I, I think
we would have built grand

Fortresses by the fence in the roots
of the tree across the street
on valley view drive

Far from the school and the house
with maggie by the seneca

And the trees we named and climbed
while the dog watched us
protecting

As we threw knives by the cows
and rode bikes and caught jumps

I think we’d be friends when we
walked past the woodpile and didn’t
hold hands

The one I kicked the ball against and
got chased by the wasps near the

Pear tree, the one
the snapping turtle walked under
one time and maggie thought we were

Running from flies, best friends