Sometimes

They put flagpoles up at the park.
Vast streamers at their apex.
Dancing colors in the wind.

And the wind here never stops.

They make a tableaux for the coming humanity.
Waves of families, and children
and lovers hand in hand.

Beneath sunshine and moonrise,
upon soft earth
and softer grass.

It will be, for a time,
and despite,
the cries of babes
and oppression of heat,
a place of temporary magic.
A place to slip
into shade
and find the lips
of someone you love.

I can see it all
and will see it all
from the window
of a moving automobile
as I go for groceries
or movies
or some other errand.

And I will be thankful,
with all my heart
for all I have
and all I have learned.

But sometimes,
Just sometimes
I really wish
I had a hand to hold.

August

Your crown's a flame.

A head on fire
O'er pale baby skin.

I lean back,
to see
the colors changing
in your eyes.

Silver inlaid with chestnut.

Lighting a world before your gaze.
As shadows pass upon
a tiny face.

I watch your head bob
a dance with no rhythm
with reaching limbs akimbo.

Sing a song of beaten seas
to see a smile
of brand new teeth.

They are few
these precious days
of
August
in
first bloom.

They pass
like water falling
on rock.
Floating
on air,
warm
and
light
from
a
newly
born
world.