Larry, Larry, why so contrary?
It can be ninety-one degrees Farenheit
and there you are shuddering right
in the dog days of August.
...
They roost upon the railing, stentorian.
Laser-eyed sentries scanning the vista,
they will guard the nest on the roof
‘til the last hatchling gets its wings.
...
Learning to know you
is like cruising along a beach highway,
heavily fringed with trees and brush;
only an occasional glimpse of a vertical cerulean sliver,
...
I.
I did not die alone:
with me went my joy, my love,
my sadness, my pain.
...
He traveled to Rangoon
amid lotus blossoms strewn,
there to learn not to flinch
at the withering and the stench
...
They can puncture like a bullet: snapshots,
fading photographs that pinched a sliver of time
from yesterday and plunked it into today,
as if that moment had tried to escape,
...
Precipitously balanced on the crux
of change, I sometimes long for flatter land
away from the tumult and the flux,
a niche where I can stand.
...
Breaking off from Cara
was as uncomplicated as detaching the pit
from the peach,
as fluid as extracting
...