Two poems on a summer evening
written on Richard’s patio in the moment….
On the eve before collection day
At 15th and Thompson
as he works
to a percussion of metal and glass
he is like a salmon
in a never ending river
always swimming upstream
not returning home
from what is familiar
A dry leaf moving edge to edge on the sidewalk
makes a simple crisp one
The bottle collector across the street demonstrates an appreciation
for lightness and attention to task with the falling glass mixed with
the clap of cans
And Ms. Rybczyk had one for me,
trying to influence another poem from my memories,
before she settled into the bench , took up her pen and
in her natural way slid her pink and sandaled toes to rest
under the jeans of my leg.
The trees do a nice crescendo
and no one bows.