Number 21

the naked child's sky
oily with joy
is fifteen times bluer
than an old man's sky

his sky is frayed rope
when he looks up
somebody locks a door 

Number 20

Birds in Winter


My wife feeds the birds
all winter


They see her
every day
through
the sunroom window
scooping up today’s allotment
of seeds
from a big sack

she told me
there were
maybe a hundred birds
in our trees yesterday

They flutter
to keep warm

they sing
to cheer her on
they applaud her

Deep Feeding

In my poem
Birds in Winter
I meant to say
that my wife feeds
the birds
and instead wrote
that she feels
the birds
which she says
she likes better
and in truth
it is more like her

Number 19

Mediterraneo

the fishermen
mending their nets
and sleeping
in the sunshine*

a nun hurries by
carrying a violet basket

a man clashes out
a squid's brains
on the dock

the creature's soul
flops its way
up to
a passing cloud

* The first four lines of the poem are from Jean Cocteau's essay, "On Haunted Houses" in his On The Difficulty of Being (London: Peter Owen, 1966), p.73.