Shadows

A poem

Smoke Blowing

10:42 a.m.

The sun at an angle

Casts upon the walls

At the garden's rear

A dense gray shadow of chimney

And ever-moving patterns of smoke

Twisting past windows three buildings along

Tangling itself in the bare wisteria

Warming not at all the birds sheltering in the vines.

Of Fire Escapes Scribbled Over

3:23 p.m.

The sun, in its rebirth flirtatious

Has moved along teasing and tickling

Bare trees, casting their trembling shadows

Over cheap glazed brick

Distorting the rigid grid of fire escapes

With a scribble of limbs and twigs

Drawn over, all tone of shade the same

Solar draftsman doodling on the city's pad.