Poems The Secret of the Moon Watching loons at Massabesic Lake while other people fall in love. Pastel dusk sky. Orange is only ever beautiful next to lavender. Traffic. So much at once. People and problems come in clusters. Headlights off the water brings The Night Sky whisper close. He’s got a message for you:
Ma Helps Keep Us Out of Trouble A Claw arm. The kind short people use to get the last jar of peanut butter in the back of the top kitchen cupboard. The kind children don’t use to harass other children. And the kind the volunteers who walk the shore of Front Park use to pick up
Ma Ducks Still Can’t Park Massabesic. The water isn’t the same. Last year's drought’s displacement dried the shore. This year's excess makes mud, murk, and mired green. Color of smoky glass. Basement windows in early Spring. I’m not sure what’s real anymore. Such a haze; the LCD
Poems Take My Word Dusk orange paints the silhouette yawn Of a great blue heron atop a rock the drought announced. Sailboats float the indigo under a great orange blue sky, Slide the serene by the great grey bluebird. Autumn wears an every-color shawl starved for green- envious of blue. She fires orange
