Friday, January 3, 2020

12,436. THE CAULDRON DRIFTS

THE CAULDRON DRIFTS
Ankle-deep in something, 
even flies admit to losing
heart : I've seen orchard
pears, thick with bees. The
goodly farmer would smile,
and brush nothing away?
-
It's a half-mile here, to the
ocean, but you'd never know 
it except maybe by smell. But
that only comes in with certain
winds. Sounds of fury and surf,
then, too.
-
Today's a different picture than
the day before. A lone man, in a
parking lot, staring at his phone.
And a lone man, farther out,
fishing all alone.

No comments: