AUGUST 15th

to proceed from within
where the lion sleeps in the tree

this now
the opportunity again while blood
beats in our veins always
this now, now this August fog
blowing

over the faded green awning that shades the produce store, fog
reflected in the real estate office window, rearing

breaking – to explode silently against the brick wall, to fall
coil and slink

low into the alley where Bear died
fog around shadowy eucalyptus trees

muffling them as if they were ourselves soundlessly dancing
– my arm on your shoulder --

Hail sweet breath whose sharing we are
and we speak! of ordinary things!


SF 78