Framed by the clear late afternoon sky a [grape vine] leaf glowed with what sunlight remained. Subtly waving in the rising summer air, it brushed the tip of my nose to say hello. So close, it waved in and out of blurred focus, slowly enough for me to catch a moment's glimpse of its structure of modern familiarity. Levittown from a mile above: The leaf recalled a streetscape known only to passing birds or scheming developers whose sole rules were density, profit, and feigned rural exclusion. Cul-de-sac sidewalk two-car garage extravaganza, these places simplify that which needs to remain complex.
Six thousand acres and twenty-two thousand lots breath no life. But the one leaf of one lot of one acre inhales during summer and exhales during autumn, a beautiful birth and death [unknown to he who calls himself owner] in unison with all else whose only currency is infinite cyclical life.
yellow moon glows
as purple velvet upon my
eyes closed to sleep.
sweating against the pile
of clean laundry slowly colonizing
my bed and soon to leave me
to the floor
I muster hope to dream dreams big.
tonight the sun melted into an alter
of crimson clouds within a
deep blue frame as we drove
across the birmingham bridge
and through the warm summer crosswind that
makes anyone crave swimming pools.
the tape playing in the dash had no volume
against the four open windows.
and conversation was no match for ice cream
during summer
on a sunday eve.
