Distance

—for Tom Clark 

I must tell you how

Under a clear afternoon sky, 

I sat under an umbrella 

Reading a friend’s book 

Of poems that had traveled 

Halfway round the world 

To end up here— 

In the evening, no umbrella, 

No moon in sight, no need to tell you 

How close the stars were that night. 

Bashô, There’s a Frog in My Throat

Dying to hear one 

Another’s croaking— 

Let’s jump in. 

Malady of the Squint-eyed Kid

Whatever has come over me?

My thinking’s cloudy, I cannot see—

On second thoughts, no use to think,

No use to see

Whatever it is,

It must be me. 

One More Transient Thought for the Day

When the watchdog you keep mindfully

On a leash keeps on barking 

In the dead of night, be on the lookout 

For strays out looking 

 

For somewhere to bed down,

And not just for the night. 

Startled by the Unimaginable

To understand how sunstruck 

Swallows resemble angels 

Of the morning, 

One only has to imagine two 

Of them flying through two 

Different windows, hovering 

Together over a double 

Bed before darting out, each 

Through a different window— 

See how easy that was?