For inspiration, over his desk a photograph –
a statue of Penelope, wife of Odysseus/Ulysses.
And one of a man from Trieste –
unnamed but the model for Leopold Bloom.
My desk – his photo – keeps words flowing.
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The One
Like black-shelled turtles emerging from underground tunnels,
they hide their heads from the rain,
scurry to their assigned dry places,
shake off water, disappear – but for one
blue shell that separates to find ocean.
Young Moon
These February evenings, our invisible daytime Moon,
lost in the Sun’s glare, has moved
east of the setting sun, a crescent
briefly seen in the west after sundown.
Earthshine is softly lighting the dark side.
Snowdust
Snow dusting an Appalachian forest, by Don Sniegowski on Flickr
Fine flakes so intricately small they disappear
against bright gray sky, roads and sidewalks.
In this forest, every surface takes some,
except for the creek, which accepts it
as brethren. I extend my bare hands.
First Date
The couple at the table beside us
are, no doubt, on a first date.
He’s talking about travel plans – a beach –
she’s quite casually looking at her watch.
More coffee? No, thank you. I’m good.
