this preoccupation with weather — yes
there is music the moving of parts
in long nights on the wharf
I have returned to my old habit
of conversing with the spirits that drop by
materialize out of rain, wrapped in fog
Tag Archives: wharf
Day 38, 2023 – no. 2
The rain is long past a redemption
but there is at least a peace to it
on an unseasonably warm night.
There are no baptisms to wash away
the day no erasure. The rain whittles
like the wind whittles away
artifice years of living dryside
in this chamber of the world machine
down to what we are.
Day 36, 2023 (no. 3)
no. 3
It’s all waiting
waiting and coffee
counting tugs
watching lines
and coffee
and waiting
at the land between the bridges
as the river disappears
into two horizons
waiting and coffee
conversing with young grackles
over this morning’s coffee
and the sun comes out
to say hello