I watched The Poconos wake up this morning.
Out the door at five-thirty,
and across the Gap by six,
I was there when they started their day.
Tag Archives: Poetry
The Dogwood Never Fails
An Ode to the Dogwood
Tulip People
An Ode to the Tulip
Route 31, 4:37 A.M.
On a Tuesday
at 4:37 A.M…
Magnolia Buds
Hang on, Magnolia buds, My dears! Hang on, Magnolia buds! Bear with this ill-timed Arctic air Withstand this undue frost. Nor let us come April into And fail to find thee there. March 28, 2022
April 9
There are three things which I do not believe— four that I will never understand: The ninny who announces that she doesn’t like bacon, the philistine who posits improvements of baseball, the charlatan who espouses a god in his own image, and the ogre who identifies his favorite season without stating first and foremost, unequivocally,Continue reading “April 9”
The Last Bath
Will we know it when it happens? And (if so) how will we know? Will we know that we know? Will we be able to recognize it? . Will the moment herald itself with the shout of an archangel? Or will we anticipate its coy arrival with a kind of parental prescience? .Continue reading “The Last Bath”
The Maples of Broad Street
The maples of Broad Street
have ceased to be tame,
The maples of Broad Street
are shaking their manes
Cacophony
It must have been
an evening in early August
when ‘cacophony’ was coined.
What other moment
could have minted
such an awesome articulation:
the world’s most perfect word?
Chicory
Ode to the summer roadside’s unassuming garland