I'm so glad
I understand everything!
Even my hands, cold
as I sit in the yard, feel warmer.
And the locust leaves, brilliant
yellow, seem to smile.
Sunniness can make even the warped
the way boughs are swaying
in the breeze—and in the nearby
But that anthrax
news is hard to swallow,
those bearded men
with dark eyes filled with hate.
When we rub together
during waking moments in our sleep,
our smooth bodies can't imagine
just as the mind can't
and then, we fall back
separately to sleep.
leaves its temple.
Darkness bubbles up.
["Undertow" appeared in Clear Winter Days (Santa Fe Poetry Broadside #38, 2004 www.SFPoetry.org]
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