It stands up and
takes you on the bus.
Blue jay feather in grass—
summer in City Island.
The drawbridge.
Fishing off the side
and the kids running back
and forth. What d’yah catch?
Orchard Beach
two women dancing
on Saturday afternoon.
Tattooed boys look on.
Mother says keep
writing. It’s what you have.
I hear it in my gut.
Don’t worry it’s the words.
Give me the words that
grind us into meaning like
those two on the plaza:
forgiveness and wild gesture.
