three poems/

Bits and bobs from 2006-2007.


locust drones high up
in the ancient maple tree –
we sing together

the world is five am quiet
only the furtive sound of
renegade raindrops
making that last suicide plunge
to the paver patio stones
& the lonely dove
moaning for lost love
distant thunder clothed in 
early dawn grey
reminds that strained ponderings
are just another attempt at escape,
to be the thunder –
that is escaping illusion

inching –
inching closer
and
closer

i shook my fist at the man
shaking his fist at the man
who had been driving with
the  same impatience as
the first in rush hour traffic

whomever denies the
cyclic
should have been
taking pictures

© Michael Raven

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