Poems

The Yellow Sock

Ah
What is this damned rain doing
To  these late days of July
Persian silk tree       male black locust   not yet that
dying rose bays
And with this weeping willow
Which just recently matured         to a dark green color
 
With windows           rooftops
With words we remember less
 
Don’t hang up
Wait to hear the  gutter’s cough         the sparrow’s sneeze
And the sigh of one of me who still thinks of you
 
Ah
What is this damned rain doing
To these late days of July
Leaves somewhat dangling          benches chained
And the empty seat of that woman
Who left          at the corner of my mind
An oblique look
A slanted smile              and a yellow sock
 
July 2004