the ultrasound

in the lobby as i help you unwrap
from the cold, your abdomen
almost bursting from the black of your coat,
i am so happy for the life in you
and the life in you
turned inside out

becomes a girl, the tech
explains, as she pins the little butterflies
of heartbeats across the screen

Song for Summer

One road trip with the wife=theme of the the open road in everything for months. Here's one.

The rock and roll

Gave the piano a try a while back.
College memories...
Save it for the rock and roll.

ubi sunt

the morning has a new
cloth, the clouds are the blush
of winter
the skyline is old and brushed
by jet exhaust, curling
grey and
gone
by the time I park my car

how they made her up for her casket
with her skin stretched tight
newborn
in every aged person
the shade of sunrise on november

does everyone slide by these tall places
wonder how the world would ever
be built again less
one soul, solid rock?
how 90 years
will have you?

halloween, portland ave.

the living grey squirrel
stops on portland ave
at a lump of grey smeared
on the middle lane

her tail shakes three or four times
rapidly, like a kind of warning

kids
dressed as kinds
of animal are coming out
of the masks of houses

some October
a long time ago
we felt
able
to make this game of
the winterlong fear of starving

the squirrel crosses Portland
raises more burial mounds of nuts.
I have never heard
any mourning in its chatter.