poems – from the good city

Electric Vehicle in the Bike Lane

One of the ruffs

from the dog downstairs

caught my amusement

by the Horatio

and wouldn’t let go

until I was basement

away from Hamlet airs

and weary of saturnine toughs.
A Veil

A veil of pterodactyls

was covering the sky’s face.

Without seeing her beauty

I vowed anyway.
My Cat

My cat wants everything now,

and then she is satisfied

with hours of almost nothing;

a regal rhythm.
Than Beauty

The tallest building

is rarely the prettiest.

The city

seems to be saying,

there are more important things.

Than beauty, I should probably agree.
Big, Scary Children

All the crazy people

at the Plaza bus station

are like big, scary children.
Rumor

Rumor has it, but I don’t,

and I don’t ever want it.
We Watched

We watched the bird sing.

It was perched high in the tree.

We stood still

like we were in church,

and not wandering for coffee,

on a warm, April, Sunday morning.
The Cherry Blossoms

The cherry blossoms are gone

after just a little while.

I saw them with all my heart

in the good city.
Monday

Monday with a chance

of good memories forming

by accident,

and I am alone

on the precarious ridge

between everything and nothing.
My Tea

My tea is getting stronger

as it steeps with me in time,

as we all steep together

strengthening the brew.