Second poem

Snow Falling on the Front Balcony

A slow drift of Sunday afternoon sky
brings about this transformation
from dreary simpleton day
into first of season magical blanket flurry.
Covering the last few brave fallen October leaves,
this snowy grace covers a sin of
plastic snack cake wrapper that some clown
carelessly cast onto a drowsy earth.
A wonderment stirs my lackadaisical soul
the suburban equivalent to snow gathering in the woodland
here which is not the city, here that is not the country,
a somewhere place strange and in-between.
This version of my 2nd floor scenery
all condo fashionable in the numb suburbs.
Real like monopoly money is real,
like the lead dog and thimble,
plastic like red houses and green hotels,
these surreal fringes I now call home.
Makes my lifespan feel silly.
me without ownership of an inch of earth to call my own,
no forty acres and a mule here.
Just a simple pleasure of snowfall on the front balcony
a miracle moment
which mercifully town hall
hasn’t figured a way yet
to price and tax.

Sunday, December 04, 2005