Author Archives: Puff Of Smoke Poems

another wonderful thing
about the world—
how steady it is
day and night
herds of clouds
move across the sky while
that reliable moon
slow waltzes through phases
whether or not
we look up and see.

flower print lanterns
made of dollar store paper
summer on a string

pause in all doorways
wait one long moment as you
enter as you leave

cold front moving in
huddle down our secret selves
doors shut tight again

rainstorm in the night
world wakes up to bright green trees
above pink sidewalks

Turn off the staticked radio.
Suddenly
through the opened
window
you can hear
birdsong
already in progress

What will the aliens make of this?
Each May spent haunting junkyards
for wreckage, hauling the worst
to the freshly green front lawns
of our high schools hours spent
arranging crumpled cars as
wishes and warnings
warding off worst things
Will the aliens recognize
our primitive totems against
all the dark possibilities?

“Buddhism says we are all students of reality— whatever that is.” Gary Snyder

Today’s reality:
A fat, foolish robin
built her nest
in a bad, bad spot—
too low in the hedge
too close to the fence
where the black cat
naps away most days
No eggs yet.
Somebody needs
to knock it down
or let nature
take its hard course.
I talk you
into being that somebody
because I am In A Hurry
Late Already

And here’s the thing
about poetry—
these words the only way
to move hard facts
out of my heart
and set at least me free.
You never mention it again
and the robin will be
too busy today
to think about freedom.

Crows, blackbirds
stay the same
stolid dark
but pigeons
lifting off
from gray asphalt
shed their shells
blossom open
into sudden
white feathers

white caught on branches
flowering dogwood
fluttering plastic
both
blooms and bags