Comments about Lawrence Beck
The rain arrives. I said it would.
We watch the water's dappled surface,
Ducks and gulls, oblivious, afloat,
And, overhead, the trees, which
Tower, shutting out the light.
We're almost in a fairy tale. A wolf
Could come, a witch, a woodsman.
We could be in peril, but the parking
Lot lies just behind, and, in it, is