7th Grade
My fear-stained
life
Catches its breath
On a path
beneath
A crosstown
posse of maples
Who have no
interest
In taking the bus fare
ln my back pocket
I swear I heard
the August breeze whisper
Are you sure
you want to
go back home?
*
Autumn 1975
I asked a certain maple
For its phone number
Not for me
I insisted
But
For my bedroom
Window
So when
The October wind
Comes to visit
The sound of
Soon to be
Vanished leaves
Knocking
Against the glass
Like inspiration
(Or a lover’s head
Meeting the bedboard)
Will conspire
To briefly evict
The posse
Of sorrows
From my
Brain
Like a bartender
Serving
A 90 proof
Glass
For Free
*
Sunday Afternoon
East Glover, Vermont
Two lane roads
Twist like an awkward boy
At a house party
Chamber Of Commerce
Autumnal breezes say
“It’s ok to be
an October smitten brother
in a corny plaid jacket
which screams
“I too fell in love
With technicolor fairy tales
About this place”
I am a concrete weary man
En route to a tryst with trees
And silence
I wave to blushing hills-
check the rear-view mirror
for police
suffering from a draught
of quotas
But now
It is as calm as a day in which
my blackness is unsettling
to some people
Somewhere
God is watching football
On a flat screen
I share my wishes
With the sky
***
