Rua
Morning lazy sounds
nothing much except birds
and a car maybe passes
sky a clear blue with dabs of cloud sorbet
above white, hand-curved stucco
dark blue shutters, interlocked tile roof
one guy pushes a car downhill,
another steers, a woman comes
out of her gate, loads her trunk
with a blanket on top, closes it
a car from the auto escola drives by
a butterfly flits around a garden
a man begins tying rope
to the bottom of his truck
while his dog peers over the side
the man begins attaching the rope
to a car behind the truck, lying on the asphalt,
and the white, black-eared dog
scratches at the truck’s window happily
a pregnant woman gets out
of the car into the truck
attempts to drive it away
but the rope comes untied from the car
she backs up, and they try again
the second time, they get half a block
a man pulls up in a black Volkswagen Voyage
and goes into the pharmacy
as a woman comes out
two men walk up the sidewalk
followed by another, an old man
in the sun on the other side, in sandals
there is a rhythm in the way
things continue, one after another
on a Saturday morning
it is not hurried, and there is enough
space between each act to keep it
separate, they don’t blend into
each other, but slowly accumulate
as pieces of a life no one noticed
The Moment
The moment has passed,
vain to try resuscitate it,
as hand lettering, once
put as dedication, stays
in the groove chosen for it.
Sun played through bamboo
a moment, a twinkle that
cleans as it chooses: you
and you, and not, perhaps,
you. Lines written at morning,
pocketed day’s impetus starting,
at evening come back swollen,
ready to bear a mystic fruit,
root of compassion, hearing
the person across a table, a
world, the real convening
at ultimate dusk, pine
glorious, palm refulgent simply
stretched across the sky again
multiplying and asking why.
The Sky
I looked and tried to remember
There was a feeling of relief there
In the sky, distant spaces
Grand shapes and centrally
A lighter patch that was
A document of early activity
An excellent calm descended
On the neighborhood
Planes and cars and birds were heard
But lightly, and breeze through
The leaves.