We had the sun on the run for a time
but today he’s nearly caught up with us
just hard-on hearing now all my whats
what randy birds of prey coxy claptrap
peck pecking at your resealed window
I didn’t hear shut nor your breathing
whispers rain after a long hot summer
husky hairs rubbing between fingers
an avian hymn to a lost limb a bird
building a nest in the old oak crotch.
Not what to put in but what to leave
out diaper pins before disposables
green canvas chairs on a tan lawn
Mozart and dogs singing on moonlit
nights across the lake venial sins
misdemeanors of youth parking
tickets not wounds but urge itches
a scratch wanting a few stitches
a weekend pass from the place
of thunder so far away and quiet.
The Coming of the Toads 