Puff Of Smoke Poems

Yesterday
at the first meeting
of the Sunshine Committee
they voted Yes
to Everything

all flash and grumble
ominous in the distance
and traveling fast
changing all the time
as we do.
It arrived on our doorstep
despite the bluster
as soft rain for the garden
someone to miss when they go

which are the best kind.

Taking too many packages
from the car
his grip loosens at the
wrong or perfect moment and
a dozen bright blue messages
rise–Happy Father’s Day
scrolled on each balloon

What I’m not
Lately
is full of poems
They don’t crowd around
waving, jumping
craving
the scratchy feel of paper
beneath their inky toes

They wandered off
to the Islands, I imagine,
judging by the luggage
I picture them packing
Floral, full of sweetness
and secrets
sunscreen and paperbacks,
I imagine
— and that’s a start

He ran down a driveway
and across the road
right there
not a big dog after all
but a bear.
A Bear
right there
rough furred reminder
of the Wild all around
ready to step out of the
woods, ready always
to brush against our skin
as we hurry by each other

because I thought I wouldn’t
or you wished I didn’t or
because of the way
the evening deer
in the back field
lifted his head
when I said, Maybe
next summer,
Turquoise

a bowl of berries
before a poem,
a pink magazine
before the Physics exam.
The sweet shape
of doorways
marked
Procrastination

the well in the woods of the world
isn’t hidden,
exactly. But you must search for it.
Idly. Casually. Search may be
too strong a word. The well,
I’m sad to say,
does not reward Diligence
nor does it approve of maps.
Rather, it appears on a whim
and only in the right mood
whatever that is.
Until you jump
or fall
down its long dark, the well
is invisible to the world.
Once you’re swimming
you see again how it opens
to wide caves below the sea.
Somehow, you forgot this
more than once.

ten days till summer—
I stride into school each day
donning my costume

armored Roman guard
exhorting daydreamers to
keep rowing this ship

Paris, Pont des Arts:

We placed too much weight
on Paris in the springtime.