Listen
Joy found in the absence
all about us.
Nothing singed
and everything easy.
Harvest pumpkins
glow burnt orange,
smoldered yellow.
A cat comes
offering
in its mouth a songbird
pink as grease
just after the match.
Shells
A dogwood flush with catbirds feasting near autumn
The sound of what they split falls through dense limbs
Bright rain also fretting leaves
It should remind me of jewelry boxes
Should remind me of downpour on tin
Instead, empty bottles in a loner’s shopping cart
I could get lost assembling it all
Could recall a hailstorm that blessed the wedding of two teachers
Could recall the bride and groom who shot AKs in celebration
Ammo casings ringed her dress, only one to clip the target
The sound of spent shells used to be so easy
Crunch of beach sand, other subtle loudness
Who hasn’t been instructions for attempting hard repairs
Who hasn’t read of soldiers in foxholes quoting Shakespeare
Falling asleep to dream of what’s been shot
In that a kind of quiet
These ever-plumping birds
Blare of pink quartz
Peal of wings
