afternoon poem, March 5, 2018



Winter’s last afternoon is sunny

And invites one to take off his hat

If only for a moment

Breathing the now lighter air

The now breathing air

And walking in the softened, tufted grass

And remembering the rush of spring

Including the rush from the door

And the rush to the river

And the warm evenings with the car windows down


Somewhere in those woods

Maybe on a hilltop

In a fold facing north

And under the shade of some evergreen

Some remnant of last month’s snow remains

Or one white triangle under the shadow of some overhanging stone


And in the club on the riverside

The curtains are pulled back

And a busboy, waiting for the evening’s session

Feels the sun on his back as he fluffs a tablecloth

copyright 2018

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