She cried, the first time

I left an unfinished building

Littering the streets with garbage




Tiers of earth formed under an arid sun

her stone rows shaping sandy palisades,

an ascending sculpture those brittle hands

made with bitty shovels and rake tines.

She sat solid in her stooped stature, content.

The figure of that woman at work,

her persistent passion staggering in the light



*                  *                  *


Passing by the red glow of that woman

who wailed as paramedics raced

past that man's empty chair


bags in hand

                                    that is all

                                    that transpired


as I watched from behind a stop sign

waiting my turn to move on


*                  *                  *



Another pigeon in the freezer next door

ceramic angels on her coffee table end tables and walls


plastic lining the furniture

while she's tending garden

behind a picket fence


I shit you not


he's a lonely mind

new to every situation

twisting heads off tulips


in the front yard

the last figure of man

drifting away


*                  *                  *


"Should I call you Grandma or should I call you by name"


*                  *                  *



She said "the years rolled by swiftly"

pulling out letters her son wrote before

the war, giving her hand to a cowboy


She had written now and then

lead by emotions and a pen


I loved the way she wrote phantasy


in piles of notebooks and journals

begging me  "read them all"


*                  *                  *

Brick by brick unfinished


her stone rows

shaping sandy palisades

a kitten crawling along the rafters

she looked like it couldn't get any worse.


tire tracks in the driveway "court fees penalties and bills"


the image of that woman

a ten foot tall snowman

on the wall melting










apartment complex blotting

                                           the mountain view


she said "I don't believe in salvation"


busted vein on the roof

swaying crowds below


 "he's not going to jump"

"how could he"


wearing a cape and an 'S' on his chest

                                    the new age savior flailing his arms


from the rooftop several stories

to the floor


passing by

our window


that man's   strange graffiti

                                                         on the sidewalk



I'm not sure about salvation, myself.