Friday, February 4, 2011
Early morning yellow flowers, thinking about the drunkards of Mexico. No telegram today only more leaves fell. Nightfall, boy smashing dandelions with a stick. Holding up my purring cat to the moon I sighed. Drunk as a hoot owl, writing letters by thunderstorm. Empty baseball field a robin hops along the bench. All day long wearing a hat that wasn't on my head. Crossing the football field coming home from work - the lonely businessman. After the shower among the drenched roses the bird thrashing in the bath. Snap your finger stop the world - rain falls harder. Nightfall, too dark to read the page too cold. Following each other my cats stop when it thunders. Wash hung out by moonlight Friday night in May. The bottoms of my shoes are clean from walking in the rain. Glow worm sleeping on this flower - your light's on.