Day Drip
The Tower of Babel
6 miles and more runs its hideous shadow
That’s why there’s
babble tongue in river rush
silence in day fade
Why water walkers double in reflection
This wind in trees
sounds like river running
rain falling
There’s purr, there’s child laugh
there’s water run and train moan
This water falls from the river
liquid running
licking lips, laps, lumbars, Lotharios
So easy to sleep when it rains
– Smith, 9.17.2016
A shearwater nests on the edge of a cliff
to fall in dream to flight in space
its cruciform wings skim tips of waves
and it follows the whales to feed on their wakes
~ Lady
The colophon of a book
of the paradise of my life – would
I let myself enjoy it – includes block print bees,
fruit trees, pineapples, haystacks and
wheat wreathes, mint juleps and distillations
cultural and otherwise, figures in almanacs
rendered into prizes for specimens shown
at a county fair
We could walk into this streaming sunshine logo, me and thee,
holding hands up to the curlicue of a wooden arch drizzled
in vine, ducking under leaf and grapes and other emblems
of harvest and civilization
Or we can walk into someplace wild named only
by calligraphic monks and keepers of words
glossy books of birds come to life
Summer morning before it gets hot
swallows divebombing us in plucky cheer
us alien in overgrown grasses of a nature
preserve, new eyes of animated stick figures
a children’s drawing taped
on my office cabinet
Quartz glints hard in the eagle’s soft eye
flying over the lake’s scintillating stipple
sweep of wings one of time’s serene ways
From a canteen’s metal darkness
lightness is earned soft and wet
relief’s seeping drink
~ Lady
A bit like a nun up from
clean starched sheets worshiping
royal yellow emperor sun unfolding
its robes into the new day to the
plunking strum of Eralio Gill’s harp
somewhere out there a rose garden
in here blessed routine looking out our
green window I write poems, I visit my own home
live my canon law, the right to gently
carpe diem calmly ignore the coaxing
traffic whooshing outside which
wants me bureaucratic
quickly washed and frantic
I’ll sit in a breakfast lifestyle while
husband clinks ceramic plates on the table
and shuffles his slippers on the slate floor
My eyes are fresh in the homeland
perpetual novelty of butter
jam honey on toasted bread
~ Lady
Puissant panther
sure paws offbeat punctuation
gamelan drums
Alert fur leery
long yellow tooth saliva memory
whisker spits from the circle of its black face
visceral shock the green eyes and pink tongue
~ Lady
Sweet sparrow more urgent in her call this morning
harps “Go to work, go to work,” and or
“Spend some time, take some time”
which, or my indecisiveness
wants both
Stochastic resonance and or
collusion with the universe
my ridge of soundtrack
Time chases me
I am poor and rich
I love the wolf
~ Lady
How unexpected a bird flapping down from the roof – decision and missive rendered. Thock thock thock thock thock. Cross between rubber and drum.
Bird chatter indicative of a quiescence when the traffic ebbs. Carousel cars turn toward then into rafts of away.
I lift my head up from the computer in a minute of liberty. The noise of my inner work alleviated by the novelty of noticing or not – of peering through and dreaming.
Husband brings the paper up from stairs of concrete reality. In luxury the pages spill on couch. I do not want to read the headlines, just ads and human interest stories. Better I launder what I have. Smell of soap, clean carpets, dishes, bath, bit at a time. Groom. Sweep – then palate refreshed for clean look
Hearing birds again – someone cooes an opening
~ Lady