Porch Poems III

Ducks in the cattails

Sometimes I think I get stuck

like ducks in the cattails,

grinding out their path;

their bodies, tired,

their wings, trapped,

their sight,

gone.

 

Cleaning out the shed

There are days when tasks are hard,

like cleaning out the shed.

I always find more

stuff I don’t want;

lost things that

speak of

me.

 

Crazy Uncle Roy

Medicine Hat, Alberta:

there, crazy uncle Roy

reached under the porch,

pulled out a snake,

grabbed its head

and kissed

it.

 

Snakeskin Boots

I grew up in Calgary,

where cowboy hats are cool.

I was cooler still

with snakeskin boots

my uncle

made for

me.

 

Staring at Sunsets

Shared, the wafting summer light

azure-orange, brightness

unfailing, obtuse,

with promises

of happy-

ending

days.

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