Veil

Slender as life

Covering secret things

We knew were there

We heard movement

Saw shadows

Felt the glory

Pressing upon you

Stretching you along

The wide wooden hanger

Until

With a cry

You tore

From the top down

And fresh air

Filled the tomb

Hello, Neighbor

Seeing you there in the driveway reminds me

I have a letter of yours

Delivered to me by mistake

It looked quite important

So I thought I would bring it to your house in person

You've been expecting it for over two weeks?

Well, I guess it could have been two weeks ago

As soon as I saw it among bills and flyers

I set it aside to bring to you later

But it became shuffled among notes and papers

Out of sight, out of mind, I guess you could say

(That phone number there on the back I'll be needing)

When I found it again, it needed to dry

(Yes, that is the coffee stain there)

Would a good neighbor deliver it wet?

While drying, somehow, it was knocked off the counter

But Lucky, our dog, found it just three days later

(Yes, those are his teeth marks there)

And seeing you here through the window

I remembered it still in the freezer (don't ask!)

And like the good neighbor I so try to be

I brought it directly (Oh, by the way

I cut out the stamp for my daughter's collection-

I hope you don't mind)

Conformity

The cold glass

Plucks droplets from

The air

Down the glossy crystal

They tumble like

Expectations

Joining others in the

Expanding ring-shaped

Pool

Childish dew pretending

To be rain

To the Reader

You've opened this

Pantry door

For whatever curious reason

Inspecting each package

Of simile

Lyric

And rhythm

Hungry

For a taste

A snack

A greater satisfaction

Or just to view what's kept

Inside

How each row is arranged

This writer hopes he's stocked it

Well

Always glad

You came

Attraction

 

Magnet and steel

Hook and eye

Desire

And emotion

The most powerful

Force

In the universe

Is that

Which holds the

Fragile

Attention

Backyards

Laced together with

Driveways

Eyelets

Of detached garages

Built for anything

But cars

In Brian's yard

We are major league-ers

Aiming for

The fence

Behind the dog pen

In Patty's yard

The playhouse rises

On four wooden stilts

We are spacemen

Or spies

In my yard

We eat pea-pods

From the garden

And trade

Ball cards

On the porch

At dusk

We are roaches

Scattering

When the streetlights

Turn on