My grandfather owned a farm in Ireland;
he was everything to that land...
Rain mists onto a moonlit asphalt path
twisting through silhouetted trunks...
Her plane is late, delayed in Akron
winter storms pushing back departures...
Winter storms long past
yet show their damage...
And in the end
when the contest is done...
You have tamed this small beast
who came to us bedraggled...
Oh love, they sealed you underground
then wailed beside me all the day...
Hardly exciting,
first ice cream truck of Summer...
All we know in life
are working hypotheses...
Poets see all these people watchers:
enforcers vigilantly censoring deviance...
Beyond the pale smile
of flowery nicety...
Daughters are the hardest to parent;
you need the finesse of a master chef...