POEM: 2020

2020!

You are the time that tried men’s souls…
not to mention those of:
-women
-children
-the non-binary
-the undecided

and the un-huddled masses,
yearning to be close.

POEM: Like a Hawk

I watch the hawks —
watching me watching them —
and wonder how many of them I don’t see.

They’re better watchers:
-stiller
-more patient
-less swayed by boredom.

They stand, cloaked, as if in judgement —
Chief Justice of this street,
roving eyes in search of
one false move.

They are literal swoopers.
I’ve been accused of “swooping in,”
but I’m — at best — a figurative swooper.

Watch, swoop, catch, repeat…

The trail calls to me,

its grass-fringed part curving gently,

climbing upslope toward the trees,

the forest that hides hints of a future,

denying all hope of knowing what comes next.