Parking Lot Entrance (Road Number 4)

Around Here

Around here, people stand by their cars
at the other end of parking lots
and merge with the general grey.
We judge the value of a man 
by the color of his silence
and women govern competently in SUVs.
We know that winter follows fall,
that spring is late and grudging,
and that summer ends;
but work is always there to save us.
We would all be driftwood, if there were enough,
things of wood and wire that have endured the sea,
but much of what we have is pebble,
which is also washed and serviceable,
so most of us make do
with stone.

October 22 2013

Road Number 3

Bells

It isn't the time the bell is calling
but Mass. From where we walk
each peal of each 
sounds much the same,
though where Mass's rings 
sing close upon each other,
time's more measured, more methodic.
But bells are bells, only different in intent.
Time's chimes can be counted;
each hearing walker must decide
if both bells can be counted on.

October 15 2013

I Couldn't Quite Hear the Question It Was Asking Me

Peggotty Beach Walk

He is plunging along like a tug in high seas
at the end of a snapping line
while the garnet breakers toss treasure on the shore.
The wind is beating the season back toward winter
when the beach will be ours once more.

October 12 2013

Life Cycle of a Band

The band breaks in
the band breaks through
the band breaks out.
The band plays around
the band breaks down
the band goes under
the band breaks up.
The band is over.

October 12 2013

They Gave Me a Horse, and a One Hour Head Start

Road Number 2

Rhyme with God

God is in the wind, is in the dell.
God is in the winding of a shell.
Speaking in the silence,
sounding in a bell;
God's in every place that I can tell.

October 8 2013