thoughts of leaves

The reds are softened by grays this year
as if some azure dye stains eyes . . .

move along; there’s nothing to see here

cars file along the freeway
blind to the possibility
that all this could be flame
instead it is commuter dead red
in the D390 series
a very popular tint this year . . .

move along; there’s nothing to see here

tourists soon decide to drop into the box store
inside which are truly fabulous leaf displays
engineered in Taiwanese designer cells
for the season’s real reality . . .

move along; there’s nothing to see here

Sit in your cubicle and imagine
leaves shimmering rustling singing
or whatever they do . . .

move along; there’s nothing to see here

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distinction

The difference
between a spouse and a bridge partner
is the time you spend looking at, not into,
your partner’s eyes;
bridge partnership rules are rigid
and the cards are flexible, but in a marriage
it’s in the cards that something else is rigid
and the rules are flexible;
a wink to your spouse can set things in a new direction,
but a wink to your partner can mean a call to the director;
you can set the table for your spouse
but neither you nor your partner wants to be set at the table;
a bridge partner is often pleased to be made the dummy:
but never even hint . . . !

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Looking at you

My hands have held
so much of you:
this house
and the hammers
that have repaired and shaped it,
the leather clad
wheel that steered our trips,
the tissues that dried our eyes
at cakes and wakes,
the cameras that stored it all
in albums for revisits
over laps and drinks,
the sounds and silences
words and music
pages and images
candles and shadows
cake and ale
sickness and health
shifting so soon
and all that
and all that.

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