Poem

Thinking your summer
knees in the shade
of a tree which fractured
its elbow last night
 when  the storm came rolling in
. .  i am seeking somebody
skilled in his trade           like priests
              a woman perhaps
          who can
rearrange me into shelves
so that when i am the top
i can negotiate time
with pigeons sleeping in the garrets (at four)

Outside the rain
is making an eyebrow
on* the faint road
it certainly
is
yours.

A tractor is making
sections of this road
fertile.
That is where I anchor
my lies and by evening
     i have grown a pasture
to rest with your cows

*of