Grand Canal

that morning the 
north end of 
the adriatic sea,

looked like a
scene from a 
monster movie, 
after the crowd 
ran away.

venice started 
out that way, 
a barbarian army 
at the edge 
of a swamp. 

nothing much 
has changed


an awful mist 
hung over
the grand canal,

as we looked 
toward a modern 
art museum.

maybe it excited
her to support men
who might some 
day be known 
as greats.

you never know.

a carpenter 
might become 
a fisherman;

a slave might 
become a 
famous sculptor,
a plowman, a poet.


and we had faith
that sunshine
would come back.

Blown Peony 2

Blown Peony 2

it looks like this
when the petals 
fall off.

each day brings
a new surprise.

this morning
i had to
shovel snow.

and shout hello
to my neighbor.
his new puppy
came to visit.

a puppy's
full off play.
fuzzy bundle
of bounces.
i made a friend.

new friends are
always so full
of promise;
you never know.



Tile Roof

      down on the
tile roof, a little 
   damp remains...

tropical rain
   sometimes 
      so warm,

sometimes
      it plugs
   the drains.

wet tile roofs,
that might not,
      blow away...


      as stories go,
some things you 
   cannot say.

      maybe her  
   last trip ever,
you never know.

i hold my mouth 
and think again.
      words choke.

   they will not
      come. stuck
in my throat.

      (life without
some pictures)
   we are taught.

   some words
must not be said
      you know.

some thoughts
      must not 
   be thought.


      down on the
tile roof, a little
   damp remains...

tropical rain
   sometimes
   so warm,

sometimes
      it plugs
   the drains.