End of summer on the river path.
Light almost plaintive
through cottonwood leaves,
a frieze of tall pillars. A froth
of rambling wildflowers, tender lavender
nameless to me – it’s not
rhodora, in this woodlot
astride mud-coppery earth-bender...
So Hobo goes mumbling along.
A road of melancholy
fool, remembering a door, a song-
agate)... rowing, rowing down
a river to the Keys.
Angling through trees,
light rhymes with breeze (a wind-sown
octave); a fleet bird whistles
through hearkening cedars.
Her labyrinth of tears
might be a simple maze of thistles –
a hobo circus of circumference
around the dense mast
of a coracle. Its ballast
is adhesive mutuality – love-sense
smiling through some kid’s affection
for a friend... Mendelssohn
in harmony, one
ark out of many waters (milky lesson).