Summer City Drift


Fully petalled velvet
with overflowing scent
his brown suit
and the black bicycle
he rode to work
speak of it openly
the teenage girl across the street
who listened to Steppenwolf
in her basement
soft honeysuckle scent 
accented the lazy cicada whir
a cascading metal ascent 
of sound
red brick walls
red roses grew against
the Hungarian man
who lived around the corner
went to Woodstock
behind his faded white stable
the alley with its fool’s gold
and fossilized horse dung
we picked up and examined
men in dark work pants kneeled
over roses in the dusk

First published in Burdock Magazine


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Black-eyed Susans


Sunday sojourn
in the Appalachian Mountains
beyond the Furnace Hills
of Pennsylvania
the whole family
Grandmother in her straight
skirt
white blouse
and canvas walking shoes
Grandfather’s camera
its worn leather strap
always around his neck
molasses cookies we ate on the way

and the joyful proclamations
of aunt and mother
Oh, look, Black-eyed Susans
as if these flora were long 
familiar friends
brightly swaying
in skyward scatter
upward across hillsides 
they were strong among 
humbler grasses
daisies and wild chicory

velvety defiance dashed with 
mischief
gleams deep from summer’s
brown eye
O’ how our thoughts reeled
to reaches beyond road
and automobile

a few years ago
I planted Black-eyed Susans
for my children
I wanted them to know
how I was once loved
by the wild mountainside
but my robust flowers
were just domesticated
near to perfect
in quiet rounded mound