Mount Pleasant

Tethered to a liquid mooring,
Bodies moving, night brings
Men striding head up beside
Gold hoops and little black dresses.
All the children are back home
With YouTube Blippi and LEGO blocks,
So the good wine flows by the
Succulent harbor, torches come
To life along April avenues and
Blue and white banners flutter in
A wind too strong for tall heels on
Wooden docks.

On 11th Street

So much in every corner shop
The lights, the horns, the signs, the smells
There really isn’t time to stop
The once-shy heart within her swells

She’s got no time for fear, or fake
This is the trip she had to make
To make a woman out of shards
And live outside a house
Of cards

Chance Upons – 3

The trains still run here. Yesterday,
To think a bit, I drove a way,
Then reached a town of famous name,
And saw her waiting there.

Of college age, I think. I guess.
With something of a country dress
Beside the platform, with her case,
And a determined stare.

The train could not come soon enough.
That one thing I could tell.
Her destination heaven, or
This faded town a hell,

Or something else. I never will find out.
I drove on by not wanting to
Be creepier than poets are
By dint of our profession —

But if I had once chance, I’d ask.
To know her reasons and her tale:
And why leaving Plains, Georgia seemed
Like more than an


Falling rain and heart and sky

Falling rain and heart and sky
Landing softly. You and I
Kissing there amid the spray
Of some long-lost summer’s day

Secret-telling in the dusk,
Perfumed hair, and skin and musk;
Peeling back the edge of shy,
Falling rain and heart and sky