Comfortably Lonely, Cabin Porch

Comfortably lonely, cabin porch
hard back book
foggy overslept hard back chair

backpack hangs on
a wooden peg
empty
but for deja vu

trembling hands
loosening clothes
fingers slipping
underside the clasp

coarse canvas dream
and well oiled leather boots
with high arches
moving away from here

even before painting
the rooms onto a circus tent
the tall poles cantilevered
and kids with summer suntan lines
on open feet

saguaro sunset scenery
flash by in a clackety-thwack 16mm print
Grandpa coughing, me
jotting down unessentials,
collecting pottery along the way

the movement is key i recollect
while stopping still and
tucking my boots
under a hearty mantle
of foreboding calm

betwen night and light

the space between
night and light
when bats dive like
fiery planes

battles over borders
foggy lines on faded maps
drawn by someone else
away for reasons
forgotton, arbitrary
false

rusting wreckage
overgrown by by jungle vines
reclaiming tools of sadness
seeking a final vestige of dignity
from deathly, slow grip

woodpeckers clamoring
waking bats firebombing
until sunrise

–
Lk Crescent 2004

One way these tracks

One way these tracks
run directly into the elevator
then somehow into Mt. Hood

turning east
stopped by a wooden fence
with a dam behind
Columbia daunted
but roiling

stunted but strong yet
regressed to measures, velocity
and potential
the water spreads thinner then gold
every fiefdom wants its piece to bridge,
tame and dam

rocks and measurements
observe the folly
silt builds behind
water cools ahead
moving
beyond memories
of what wasn’t left behind
of drowned villages
and artifacts uncovered
entombed and enshrined
only the tugboats come close

barge drifting
silos wait
trains slip past
Columbia slows

Waiting Only Twice a Day

Trying to say
kind words,
“surely room for all”
waiting on the 15 Cambie
amidst dig and cover
moving one truck
at a time
one sinkhole

the battle-ax reserves judgment
“she jumped the line”
and continues,
“and people may be left behind!”
in fresh tarred reflected heat

Wonder and gaze to avoid the disagreement
She chortles,
“You must never wait here -
before now”

noting the stop moves most days
edging around impending tunnels
i aim to say,
“i’ve stood at each stop twice -
each day” recalling drizzle, sun and hail
but missed the chance
when we all fit aboard