An Investigation

From my window in the bus I saw raw
city lights tonight
pass in review, new
marvel to a child of four or
five.  He gazed, amazed
at that
audacity.  When then
does wonder to the eye die?

Good Night, America

An apt verb, “drop”:
for pants
eagerly descending;
for birthing multiples;
for unloading sentiments;
for crashing hope;
for shock,
abrupt crack in sanity,
worldly pose or teeth;
for welcomed sleep.

To drop:  to plunge
from every day occurring
into sudden, psychic free fall.

How like a waiting spider
we bid acquaintances
drop in
and hang around.


Autumn drops
like a wet cold
omen.  Summer
hardy vines shriek in frost
to die, while even trees weep
all their warm triumph
to survive and call
that mourning glory.

Autumn falls
in chocolate tones
to welcome
in the night of crystal myth.