By Thomas Page

235

Fleet of abandoned

Ships Rest In Peace in water

Of the Potomac

 

236

Dragonflies hover

Over nameless golden plants

Cultivated there

 

237

July afternoons—

An easel of sunshine and

Baked cloudy skies

 

238

What fresh berries found

Like a greenman blushing at

Unexpected guests

 

239

Fire in a pit—

Controlled passion and fury—

 A useful resource

 

240

The gray cat rolling

On the concrete like

Roman Baths during its height

241

A faraway duck

Quacking into the forest—

Spring fades to summer

 

242

“Listen with my eyes”

I heard my mother say while

Walking in the woods

 

243

Water enriched with

Chlorine, flanked by concrete quays

And plastic wat’r slides

 

244

There is, or was, a

Skunk who lurked at dusk by the

Bridge scared by all o’em

 

245

The late afternoon

Lazily lurching towards night

The eternal hours

 

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