an arthritic finger
a quonset hut hulking in January drizzle
a teardrop tattoo
a chowder shack in Bodega Bay
a misty November afternoon spilling over with gulls
a flagstone walkway
a cigarette butt in a puddle outside the hospital
you are older
a coil of barbed wire breaks thru pasture snow
a dish of paella in Baltimore
it was January you should have been elsewhere
a peony blooming next to concrete steps
a pair of chipped bifocals a pair of frayed black sandals
a kestrel preening in the willow
a star tattoo a daytime moon
a purple cyclamen on a San Francisco patio
a string quartet a picnic dinner on the lawn
an archtop guitar
a game of croquet a storm approaching from the south
a Council, Idaho July 4th parade
a dogwood blooming like laughter
a cottonwood’s seedpods exploding amidst May’s bees
a future loaded with blanks
where have you been all this time
Jack Hayes
© 2010