after the smoke cleared

outside my window
somebody in a car
is blasting the clash
& a pack of motorcycles
is revving in unison
& a woman is feeding
her dog an ice cream cone
right below in the square
& the blue night is coming
on ever so gently
& all the voices floating up
to the second story
are telling me all is well

————————-

sometimes i remember springtime like this

mother pulling marigolds
from crinkly plastic trays
digging holes for roots
no gardening gloves
just earth-stained hands
father sinking wooden
stakes in turned over soil
for waiting tomato plants
beagle loose running
back & forth along chainlink
yapping w/ neighbor’s dog
soft spears of green grass
welcoming bare soles
grandmother visiting from city
sitting in lounge chair
beneath maples full of sap
humming to old music
on radio
no hands swinging
no hammers shattering
no tongues spitting
no leashes choking
no knees pleading
no limbs snapping 
no points jabbing
no feet stomping
etc…
just hearts like bright
bouquets of grace

——————————-

prayer for the unborn

stay in the trumpets of the daffodil

stay in the tears of the wisteria

stay in the grit of the anthill

stay in the spots of the monarch

stay in the posture of the frog

stay in the network of the oak leaf

stay in the wind thru the wheat

stay in the flatness of the shadow

stay in the nerves of the sand flea

wherever you might be just hold, stay


———————————————

tonight

w/ each poem
i take the risk
of reaching
my hand out
in the dark

& placing
a flower
behind
the ears
of each
of my
monsters

i think
i see teeth
flash

their mouths
open
but
only to
sweetly hum

this time