Due to technical difficulties I wasn’t able to post yesterday, but the writing happened anyway. Hooray!
And maybe readers prefer less frequent posts of collected poems rather than the daily dose? Please comment below to weigh in on this. And thanks for reading!
At the Kentucky with Audrey and the guys
in the old movie house
with my kids on a summer afternoon
the smell of popcorn, our fingers
sticky as the floor, all the chocolate
gone before echoes of the Wurlitzer’s
final chords die and the lights dim
the celluloid orchestra swells
a foreshadowing medley and then the opera
spills overdressed hothouse flowers
into Covent Garden where native violets
defy mud and rain and a gentleman
is actually revealed by his words
rather than the cadences of his tongue
Lunch with the birds
We sit on the sun-warm patio, glasses
dripping condensation beneath the broad canvas
umbrella. Our plates are kaleidoscopes of garden
bounty: arugula, mizuna, mustard, kale; open-face
hummus sandwiches with radishes and parsley; new
potatoes with basil and scallions. Bees bumble
loudly in the potted lavender. We feel a bit
potted ourselves, the pitcher of sangria
nearly empty, much like the thistle feeder
in the perennial bed, where goldfinches
flash in shrill quarrel over the lowest ports.
The Daily Compost 