Fall, Flight, Coffee

Gathering myself
Into a porch chair
on a hot humid

morning I hear
geese flying south;
too early

I think for
a moment
as the cat explores

the limits of how
far she can leap.
“Your dad, he keeps fallin’,”

the cell phone says.
“He’s too old to fall.”
In the hot humid

morning I hear
geese flying south;
too early, I think

for a moment
over coffee, then
know it’s not.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s