Poets and Playwrights
Singers and Speakers
Driving, pleasant early morning suburban
Side streets hugging, building a horizon
Old timey sand stone university.
Concrete sculpted captured
Trees blush ebb dry fade from green,
Fall as mud mulch across dozy blades.
Else wasted upon the sun heated
Million year dead dragon bitumen
(On stony ground. When the sun is risen,
It is scorched; having no root it withers.)
Just as blue flame under the pot adds energy
And sets in motion the placid luke water,
Roiling and boiling and tumble rattling
The pot. A disturbing tumult. Even so
Do the thick invisible hot wide exhaust
Dragon half consumed fumes curb
Crawling council bus blow and boil.
A noisy confusion set in motion creaking
Cracking fading leaves. And in the distance
A stately line of cars slow files up
The low rise and turning to my right
The rising waxing sun catches and flashes
Mirrors or back windows.
Alone. Snap. Back now.
The solemn drip
Of cars disappears behind the rise.
And I am left alone.
Invisible silent unknown