Saturday, August 16, 2014

Perhaps Because I Have Done This Before

Each moment contains
Some quality of the next
In continuum --in text,
An enjambment, as rain
Stores starlight
In opalescent fog.
Morning, birds
Mutter in hedges,
Silence is
Broken by a barking dog
And this span loses edges
To rising mist.
New worlds are
Made of this: calm uncertainty
That will grow
Wings, feathers, fur;
From this weather
Occur, live, be,
And roam the future
Of memory.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Lake Berryessa

Berryessa was late to work this morning
As we drove east from San Francisco.
She crossed Interstate 80 in an embarrassed
Thirteen-mile-long glob of water and wildlife.
Last night, Outside Lands Music and Arts Festival put
A strain on her hydroelectrics and lights flickered.
Her alarm clock failed, and she woke up real late.
She was trying to get back to Napa and 
Lay herself against the Monticello Dam
So the music could go on, so Tom Petty could
Be a Heartbreaker yet again and close the show.
It's only nine o'clock now, so I don't know
If she made it, but we waded through --we
Got home --and found out the car likes fish.