On A Morning
with the tide way out
all my neighbors asleep the sun still straining
to top the meditation tower on a nearby houseboat,
stalks the shallows
a cat pads soundlessly some cock
crows as the traffic hiss swells behind me and I
draw dawn into myself like an immense morning moon
fading before the irresistible tide of day.
And At The End of Day
to be able to look around saying,
this is fantastic
the orange sun
at its dusty finish,
the same wrack of boats
ruined and new
sprawled about and all that mud;
a gray cat
across the pier's gray boards
climbing into my lap
batting the end of my wiggling pen.
and the line the sun makes straight
across the mountain shadow,
then sweeping upward into night.