missing the Grackle, because she’s tearing through the order of the city with prehistoric motive.

water – neither good nor bad, sudden food supply, same.

just leave the ancient Oaks to shade and sway

that little squirrels can play.

where was the bluejay that day, the cardinal?

sullied heat pressing sideways, offering me up a limber way of walking, slow and steady.

some come for this heat, the meat of fortune for both prey and pray.

Crackling under my foot are acorns

tossed gravel from driveways

defiant to the sprawl.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s