Two poems on a summer evening

written on Richard’s patio in the moment….
On the eve before collection day 

At 15th and Thompson

he sings 
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
but away
from what is familiar
by Deidre

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.
By Richard 

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