the torque craze of trojan gravity
the grasses too
here, are turned
molded in a clay wean
along a once great
American river
there is wanting
and ancient empirical thirst
in its shale reaches
just like we are
peaches and warm Spring onions
harvesting green above
the heated earthenware
where dead tree roots decompose
and swear to god
they gave all they could
I have a small front yard
on a quiet residential street
where people speed anyway
it’s mixed housing
single occupancy owners
and apartments
two and three units each
this is a college town
with us townies too
and just like we are
everyone is perched here
on the escarpments
the high side of the Hudson
is hill neighborhoods
like this one
climbing the rise of May
the Beltane night sky lingers
in the slow glow
of a lengthening Sun
it bursts with
its brightest stars
even Jupiter
finds the crawl
pulling the Moon
past the gnosis
gothic towers
of a very old girls school
to the East of Maple Avenue
and just like we are
they wait too
with the scent
of backyard grill smoke
mixing itself in
ever so slightly
with the tree flower smells
eating through
the last of Winter’s decay
EJR ©
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